


The Night Shade

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: (None Depicted), Action/Adventure, Also a couple Major Felonies, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Blood and Violence, But also, Cheesy Time-Period References, Coming of Age, Depictions of Abuse, Established Relationship, Everyone's Bisexual, Eye Trauma, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon spoilers, Fire emblem: Echoes spoilers, Guess who it's, Historical Fantasy, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Minor Felonies, Mystery, Romance, School Dances, Teenage Drama, Trans Female Character, hi i'm mel and i wrote a horror novel accidentally, mild Self-harm, real drama, trans!lucina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 91,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: Something strange is happening in the New England town of Ylisse...Lucina and Severa are sisters just trying to get by - Lucina, going into her senior year, grapples with uncertainty about her future, while Severa grows increasingly fed up with their small, boring hometown. When a student vanishes seemingly into thin air, the girls find themselves plunged into a mystery that stretches back hundreds of years, a mystery that threatens to unravel everything they thought they knew about their peaceful town, their friends, and even themselves.Largely inspired by the works of Stephen King (but less sexist) and H.P. Lovecraft (but less racist).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A couple notes before we begin!  
> Okay, so this is largely drawing inspiration from pulpy 80's b-horror movies, so expect a bit of gore, a bit of sex, etc. None hugely emphasized, but it's there. There is a bit of unpleasant content in here, but all of it will be tagged and appropriately warned ahead of time.
> 
> Thanks for reading this! I finally got around to seeing IT and the new Stranger Things, and the idea of a band of high-schoolers fighting a monstrous eldritch evil seemed like such a natural fit for the Awakening kids, since that's kinda their whole deal in the first place. It's been a blast to write and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> (the title is taken from a song called Man's Road from the film The Last Unicorn which is very good and from 1982 so it's relevant shhh)

Archanea, 1785

The cave was dark and quiet. Too quiet. Not simply the silence of a hollow of stone, walled off from the outside world, but the silence of a void in which there was no escape – not for light, not for sound. There was no trickle of running water, no gentle tap-tap of stone on stone. No creaking of wood, no chirping of birds, no skittering of rodents. It was total, all-encompassing silence.

A man stood at the entrance of the cave, tall and somber, holding before him a dented metal lantern. The light cast a circle of orange around him, illuminating no more than a few feet in front of him. He bent down to adjust his boots, retying the laces and prodding the dirt to check that they were secure. He was a young man, slender and muscular from his time in the army. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, a mop of midnight blue.

“Marth!” cried out a voice from behind him. He turned, startled.

“Caeda? What are you doing here?” he asked as the woman embraced him. He took a step back, examining her clothing. “Why are you dressed like that?”

She shuffled awkwardly in her ill-fitting breeches and jacket. It was _his_ clothing, of course. And slung across her back was a hunting rifle.

“I cannot let you do this alone, dear husband,” Caeda said with determination. “Nor can the rest of the townsfolk. Cain and Abel are gathering every able-bodied man and woman to muster here. We can help, Marth.”

Marth stroked his clean-shaven chin, mulling the news in his mind. He pushed up one sleeve, staring at the dark birthmark on his forearm. It tingled slightly when he pressed it. “Fie,” he said at last, pushing the sleeve back down and taking a step back. “Nay, Caeda. I must do this myself.”

“Your friends are with you!” called out a voice. A sprightly boy, barely past into adolescence, emerged from the woods. He had a wooden hunting bow slung over his back.

“Go home, Gordin!” Marth called to him. “’tis too dangerous for a boy your age. If something happened to you, who would care for your mother?”

“If you fail, it matters not!” Gordin retorted, swinging the bow over his shoulder and tugging the string lightly. Caeda, too, turned back to Marth.

“Please,” she clasped her hands together in prayer. “We must do this together.”

Marth sighed. He stared out, down the mountains, towards their tiny village. He could see past the forested slopes, across the creek and the lake, past the farmhouses and the mills, far enough to see the town square. From this height, there was no detail – it was naught but a cluster of wooden buildings, built by the strength of the townspeople alone. The tallest building in town was the church, it’s spire twinkling in the morning sunlight. The town was still and silent.

It had been through the strength of their people that they weathered the past winter, and the winters before. When the town hall burned down, it was the people who rebuilt it – Barst and his men felled the trees, Draug helped raise the supports. Marth scanned the town, knowing each and every building by  heart. Merric’s apothecary, the Whitewing sisters’ stables. Anna’s general store. Hell, even ol’ thieving Julian was a beloved town fixture – he had run off with some foreign noble and they settled on the outskirts of town, living their quiet life.

Marth had no right to stake these people’s lives on his own success or failure.

“Indeed,” he said at last. “We do this together, as you said.”

Caeda smiled and wrapped her arms around her husband. Through the embrace, she could feel the metal hilt of his sword brush against her leg.

The townsfolk gathered as the day wore on, spurred on by Cain and Abel’s particular brand of encouragement, and before he knew it Marth beheld a crew twenty-strong. He had scarce seen a more rag-tag band – armed with hunting muskets, pitchforks, torches, woodcutting axes, and heirloom swords. The closest thing to a real weapon was old Jagen’s military-grade rifle. No armor, either – silk breeches and old worn coats as far as he could see. Some of the women even showed up in dresses, having nothing more appropriate to wear.

Even Wrys showed up, holy book and staff in hand, determined to be useful even if he couldn’t fight. “This evil sure ain’t bein’ defeated without a little divine intervention,” he laughed, his voice gruff and lighthearted.

Most surprising of all was Anna, the redheaded shopkeeper. She caught Marth’s odd look. “No town, no customers,” she said with a wink.

Marth nodded. He stood at the head of the crowd, listening to them chatter excitedly. One by one, though, they fell silent, each giving way to the overwhelming feeling of unease spilling from the mouth of the cave. Clouds drifted lazily over the sun, casting a shadow on the mountainside.

Caeda shuddered and huddled closer to her husband.

The townfolk looked at Marth expectantly.

He took a deep breath and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.  On his other arm was a small, heavy shield.

“Friends, countrymen, neighbors – my dearest family. Today we rid ourselves of the evil that has plagued our town for far too long – preying on our children, destroying our crops, and burning our homes.” He picked his lantern off the ground. “I know not what we will face in these dark depths, but whatever it is, we will face it together. This is our land!” he drew his sword and lifted it. “And we will rid it of this evil, and claim Archanea as the promised land we know it to be!”

The crowd cheered, rattling their sabers and clapping. Marth took a deep breath and turned, plunging into that dark blackness.

His lantern flickered, almost snuffed out by the dark. There was no wind in the cave, no motion at all. The excitement of the townsfolk dried up as each citizen set foot in the cave, the dark stone eating up all hope. With each step, they grew more silent, their voices going from excited to hushed to whispers and then finally, at long last, to silence. Marth led them through the tunnels, his lantern a weak beacon of light in the blackness.

He fingered the hilt of his sword nervously. Immediately behind him he saw Caeda, clutching his rifle to her chest. She gave him a brave smile, but he knew it was a mask. He returned the smile, as if to reassure her. In truth, he knew not what awaited them in the dark blackness.

The cave grew colder and colder as they descended. The paths wound to and fro, snaking across the interior of the mountain like the entrails of some great beast. The tunnel split apart and linked together repeatedly, the smooth stone blurring together into a cold maze. The townspeople followed him still.

He took deep breaths, gulping at the air as he felt his chest compress. The air grew thinner and thinner as they descended, the flickering flames of torches and lamps getting even dimmer. His lantern flame flickered and for a moment threatened to extinguish. He paused, hoping ceasing movement would still the flame.

“Is something the matter?” a voice called from behind him. It was Cain, one of his dearest friends. Marth felt the uncertainty sink in.

He did not know where they were going. They knew it lived here – somewhere in this labyrinth was the minotaur, presumably in the deepest caverns. But beyond that, it was all guesswork. He gulped in air. His chest heaved. It was suffocating him – the cold dark. The stone walls closed in around him. He would die here, as would the rest of the town. He had led them to their deaths.

“Go home,” he said quietly.

“What?” Caeda touched his arm softly. “What say you?”

“Go back!” he turned, sweeping his lantern dramatically across the crowd at his back. Seeing them only strengthened his resolve. The faces looked worn and haggard. They were tired, hungry, cold, and most of all – terrified. Not just of the evil that lurked in the mountain, but of the very human fear of death – getting lost in these caves meant it for certain. He spied through the crowd a trembling little girl. She must have snuck into the throng as they entered the cave.

He held his lantern out and waded through the group, kneeling before the girl.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Mar-Mar,” she whimpered. “I’m scared.”

He pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around the girl. “It will be alright, Tiki. ‘Twill be fine, that I promise you.”

At that moment, the cave shook. It was a slight tremor, doing little more than shaking loose a few stones, but all hell broke loose. The tension in the crowd snapped, and they all began to move at once. Some shouted, some clung to each other in panic. Most simply stood still, their fear getting the best of them.

“Everyone, stay calm!” Marth shouted, trying to project his voice over the din. His voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the cave. Everyone stood still, waiting for their leader to speak.

In that moment, in the silence between breaths, they heard it.

A great rumbling from the depths below, the slow inhale and exhale of some monstrous being. The tunnels flushed with hot air, stale and acrid, fluttering hair and clothes as it blew past the townspeople. It smelled musty and animalistic, but unlike anything any of them had ever smelled before. This was no bear, nor deer. It was something far deeper, far older. Marth stood, holding the lantern out into the pregnant darkness.

Another rumble rippled through the cave. He drew his sword and plunged deeper into the tunnels, paying no heed if the townsfolk were following him or not. The silence was broken, as was the stillness. Now it truly felt like the innards of the mountain – hot and damp. The bitter air tasted of sulphur.

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The blade flickered in the lantern-light. It was a silver blade, the hilt wrought in decorative gold and set with filigree of precious metal. All things considered, it likely cost more than the entire town put together. On his other arm was strapped a metal buckler, a small gold shield inset with five multicolored precious stones. Archaic weapons, less effective than guns, but allegedly the key to defeating the evil that plagued their town. Assuming the old fortune-teller wasn’t just full of hot air.

He emerged from a tunnel into a great cavern. The trail cut into the wall, winding down and down in spirals into the depths below. High above, the ceiling was dotted with massive stalactites. He kicked a stone and listened for it hitting the bottom.

The sound never came. From behind him, he heard something else.

“Marth, slow down!” Caeda’s voice echoed in the tunnels. “Husband, you leave us behind!”

He turned to see Caeda at the front of the crowd of townsfolk.

“I told you all to return home!” he said again, his voice booming. Another tremor wracked the cavern, shaking loose stones. He nervously eyed the narrow path down. “It is unsafe.”

“Hell it is!” the gruff voice of Barst, the woodcutter came from somewhere behind Caeda. “We cain’t letcha go by yerself!”

“You _are_ my best customer!” Anna said, twirling a dagger in her hands. “Pray, who will I sell my wares to if you die here?”

Even little Gordin nodded, fumbling nervously with his bow. “You said you’d teach me to shoot a musket!” he said. “If you die, who will?”

 Marth smiled. Even now, in the dark and unknown depths, they held their faith in him strong. “Everyone…” he lifted his sword high above his head. “Steel yourselves for one last struggle. Come now, my friends! Help me confine this evil to the shadows for all eternity, and bring light back to the world!”

Caeda took his arm and smiled at him. He stared into the dark depths, feeling the hot and bitter wind on his face. He turned to her. “Come. Let us win back a future for us all.”


	2. Sept 4th, 6:35 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, time for some real chapters! I'm gonna just post the first three chapters to start. Regular updates will begin next week, twice a week!

YLISSE, 1985

 

Lucina peered in the mirror, reaching up with one hand to peel back her eyelid. She winked, trying to blink the flecks from her eye. She rubbed it with a fist and looked in the mirror again. _Hm_. She tried again, pulling down her bottom eyelid with one finger and gently brushing her eye with another.

She opened the door and stuck her head out into the hall. “Hey, Sevvy! Come help me for a sec?”

“Ugh, what?!” her sister called from the bedroom. “Why are you taking so long? I need to do my hair!”

“I’m almost done, just come help me with something!”

“Can you two please stop shouting?” a voice called from downstairs.

“Sorry!” the two sisters intoned together.

Severa slouched down the hall, dark bags under her eyes. She pulled the bathroom door open and glared at Lucina. “What do you want?”

“Look!” Lucina was peeling her eyelids open and showed her eye to Severa, who immediately glared at her in disgust.

“Ew! I don’t want to look at your gross eyeball!”

“I’ve just got some gunk in it,” Lucina muttered. “Just help me put eyedrops in, then the bathroom’s all yours, okay?”

Severa grumbled and began to dig through the medicine cabinet, looking for eyedrops.

“You look tired,” Lucina remarked, hopping up to sit on the sink. She crossed her legs and watched her sister dig for the medicine.

Severa nodded, withdrawing a small white bottle from the cabinet.

“Late night?”

“Yeah,” she nodded again, unscrewing the cap. “Here, lean your head back.” Lucina complied.

“Another crisis?” she asked, holding her eye open and letting Severa administer the drops.

“How’d you know?” Severa grumbled. “Blink a few times.”

Lucina obeyed, sitting up and rubbing her eye.

“How’s that feel?” Severa asked.

“Um…okay,” Lucina asked, still blinking one eye. It looked like she was winking at the toilet. “She doing okay?”

Severa sighed. “We’ll see at school, I guess. Come on, let me get ready.”

Lucina hopped off the sink and stepped lightly into the hallway, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. She crossed to the bedroom she and her sister shared and hit _PLAY_ on her tape-deck as she got dressed.

She dug through her dresser. “Sevvy, did you steal my sweater?” she called out.

“No!” came a grumbling response.

Lucina rolled her eyes and picked out a white button-down shirt over her blue plaid skirt and black knee-socks. She bobbed her head in time to the music, her damp blue hair still dripping from her shower. She finally slipped on a pair of blue high-top Chucks before picking up her backpack. Her sister always teased her for getting so much clothing in her favorite color, but it certainly beat Severa’s penchant for earth tones and brown leather. She hit the tape-deck, turning it off as she walked out of the bedroom, backpack slung over her shoulder.

Her mother was bustling around the kitchen, cleaning up breakfast.

“Did dad go to work early today?” Lucina asked.

Her mother Cordelia was tall, her hair the same bright shade of crimson as Severa’s. She nodded. She was wearing a perfectly ironed dress, neatly arranging the dishes before sliding them back into the cupboard. “He said Frederick had something he needed help with, so he went in at six.”

Lucina dug through the pantry, pulling out a box of cereal. She popped open the top and pulled out a handful, cramming the sugary flakes into her mouth. “Mmkay,” she mumbled.

“Young lady, I thought I told you not to talk with food in your mouth.”

Lucina mumbled an apology.

“And eat a real breakfast while you’re waiting for your sister! I made your father eggs and bacon. There’s still some left on the stove.”

Lucina was just about done eating when Severa came bouncing down the stairs.

“Hey, Luci, do you mind if I stay late after school today? Morgan and I have a group project for history that she wanted to get some work done on.”

“Is that for Ms. Miriel?” Lucina asked, after pointedly swallowing a bite of egg. She had taken the same class last year.

“Yeah. It’s that town history crap,” Severa landed at the foot of the stairs and sat down to pull on her knee-high brown boots.

Cordelia glowered over her, hands on her hips. “And just where do you think you’re doing dressed like _that?_ ”

“Um…School?” Severa said sarcastically.

Cordelia pointed up the stairs. “Change. Now.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?!” Severa glared at her. “It’s fine!”

“You aren’t even wearing pants!”

“Tights count as pants!”

Lucina sighed, rubbing her eyes. Her left eye still felt sore, and it seemed like it wouldn’t focus. She tried shutting her right eye, and suddenly the world was underwater. A murky, blurred filter over everything. She closed her left eye and opened her right. Clear. Blurry. Clear. Blurry. Left camera. Right camera.

“Luci, you agree with me, right?!” Severa brought her sister into the fight, which Lucina had tried very hard to avoid.

“Um…” she said half-heartedly. In truth, she absolutely did not think tights counted as pants – you wore them under skirts, for crying out loud! They were just socks that reached your waist. Some tights were acceptable for exercising, and Severa’s current ensemble didn’t pass that test. But she didn’t want to get on Severa’s bad side, particularly if she was this tired and ornery, so she said nothing.

“See! She agrees with me!” Severa shouted.

“Change, or you don’t get breakfast!”

“I’m not hungry anyway,” Severa crossed her arms angrily.

Lucina finally looked up. “Mom, she’s wearing a dress. It’s fine.”

Cordelia huffed. “That is _NOT_ a dress. It doesn’t even reach your knees!” She was right – Severa was wearing a sleeveless dress that only reached about a third of the way down her thighs – if it weren’t for the tights, Cordelia would more than certainly be getting an eyeful of Severa’s underwear when she sat on the stairs.

“Just cross your legs when you sit,” Lucina said wearily, putting her dishes in the sink. It was like this every morning.

Cordelia walked off in a huff, muttering about her ‘hussy of a daughter’. Lucina crossed to the stairs and leaned on the bannister, watching Severa tie her boots.

“For what it’s worth, tights aren’t pants.”

Severa stuck up her middle finger.

 

-

 

It was a mild and blustery day, the first gusts of autumnal wind blowing away the lazy summer air and dropping the temperature just enough to remind the town that fall was on its way. It wasn’t fall yet – the leaves were still green and school had just barely kicked off, but in just a few short weeks Lucina and Severa’s walk to school would require bundling up.

The whole town seemed reluctant to settle into the late summer attitude, and other pedestrians were still wearing shorts and t-shirts despite the chill. The sun rose above the neighborhood, casting a yellow light across the rooftops of medium-sized suburban ranch houses. They were called the suburbs, but that was generously implying a city – in truth, downtown Ylisse was comprised of a main street and about six square blocks. Beyond that it was whole neighborhoods of gabled roofs and split-level houses. A few colonial houses dotted the town, mostly in towards the center of town where there were still some historic buildings.

The two itself was nestled in the New England mountains, wrapped on one side by a river that fed into a large reservoir. On the other side, the houses gave way to farmland, then the trails and woods leading up into the foothills of the mountains.

The very center of Ylisse was the old Town Hall – built back when all this land was still called Archanea. It had been burned down a few times and rebuilt a few times, each successive reconstruction adding on the architectural styles of the era until it became a mishmash of elements that lacked any real cohesion. It was mostly inhabited by touring schoolchildren now, though it housed the town archives and was adjacent to the county library.

Past the Town Hall was what passed for ‘Historic Ylisse’, a tourist trap area designed to lure in out-of-towners and get them to spend money on fake apothecary medicines and ‘traditional’ garments. There was a building that was once the general store, now manned by historical re-enactors. The streets there were paved with cobblestones, but Severa thought it was all kinda crap.

“You go down one block, and there’s a CVS! You can see it from the courthouse!” had been one of her protests. Lucina had a more charitable view of historic preservation, but she admitted that it was silly to see the re-enactors in line at the local diner.

The rest of the center of town was occupied by the usual small-town boredoms – main street was lined with small shops, a local drugstore, a café – _Anna’s_ \- frequented by the high-schoolers, and a barbershop – complete with candy-striped pole out front. There was a mall out to the south, by the highway, but beyond that Ylisse was a town that reveled in its own history. Or, as Severa so kindly put it, a town that was “too busy jerking itself off to bother getting a fuckin’ Walmart”.

Severa and Lucina trekked through town on their way to school, passing by other students and adults on their way to work. Almost the whole way, Severa continued to whine about their mother and Lucina continued trying to wink out whatever was going on with her eye.

She made eye contact with a boy as she did, and groaned as he winked back.

“Why hello, ladies!” a grey-haired teen sidled up to them, brushing back his admittedly stylish hair and sticking his hands in his denim jacket. He had a pair of earphones around his neck, the wire trailing down to a tape player on his belt.

“Fuck off, Inigo,” Severa glared at him.

He took Lucina’s hand and bowed. “My dear, I know a wink when I see one. Are you perchance finally returning my flirtations?” He paused, noticing her eye was still twitching. “Are…Luci, are you okay?”

“I’ve got some crap in my eye. I’m not in the mood, Inigo.”

“Yeah, she’s not in the mood, _Inigo_ ,” Severa parroted, sticking her tongue out.

“Did you try eye drops?” he asked, joining them on the sidewalk.

Lucina nodded. “Yeah. I think I might stop by the nurse this morning if it doesn’t go away. I might have just slept weird or something.”

“Hey, did you guys do the math homework?” Inigo asked. “I forgot to do it and-“

“No!” Severa scolded him. “Besides, just ask Laurent. He’s better than me at math anyway.”

“I…” Inigo bowed his head shamefully. “I already copied his chemistry homework. He won’t let me borrow anything else.” He leapt in front of the sisters, clasping his hands in prayer. “Please! I’ll do anything! I won’t flirt with you for a week!”

No response.

“A month! I promise!”

Lucina sighed, slinging her backpack off her shoulder. She dug out a worksheet and passed it to him. “Just get it back to me at lunch, okay?”

“Yes! Thank you so much!” he grabbed Lucina’s hand and kissed it before taking off down the sidewalk towards the school.

“Ugh, what a moron,” Severa muttered.

 

-

 

As expected, Lucina tottered off to the nurse’s office as soon as they arrived at the school. Severa walked along to the school lobby, where clusters of high-schoolers gathered to chat and hang out before the school day started.

She wove through the crowds, pushing roughly past other kids. Her glare was enough to ward off even some of the tougher kids – few were willing to go toe-to-toe with the girl who was pretty much accepted to be the school bully. It was useful at times, but it wasn’t a reputation that Severa loved having. Even though she hated to admit it, friends were hard to come by for her, meaning she mostly hung out with Lucina whenever possible, and, failing that…she continued scanning the lobby. Aha!

She spied a girl sitting alone against the far wall near the bathrooms. She was dressed in a ratty green hooded sweatshirt and torn jeans splattered with dirt and grass. They also had some other stains, a little harder to place, but Severa assumed it was paint. She was clutching her backpack to her chest, her face buried in the fabric and her short black hair splayed around her head.

“Hey, Noire,” Severa said, kicking her lightly. The touch of her foot made the girl jump.

“Eep! Ah!” her face looked wild, simultaneously dog-tired and coursing with frantic energy.

“Jeez, it’s just me. Calm down, kid,” Severa said. She slumped against the wall and slid down to a sitting position next to Noire. Noire was a year younger than Severa, and as far as Severa could tell she didn’t have _any_ friends. Not in the same sense as Severa, who had _some_ friends, even though she was loathe to call them that. Severa had never seen her even talking to anyone else. She sat alone at lunch, never went on any field trips, wasn’t in any clubs. She would sometimes miss days of class at a time but would always show up just enough to skate by the attendance policy.

Even most of the teachers had given up on calling on her in class. She really was only noticed once, when she got into a fight and got suspended for two weeks after breaking another student’s nose. Beyond that, it was as if there was simply a blank white space in the student roster where ‘Noire’ should go.

“Oh…ah…sorry,” Noire said, still breathing quickly. “H-hi, Severa.”

“Hey,” Severa said softly. She took Noire’s hand in her own and squeezed it lightly. “You okay?”

Noire nodded, burying her face in her backpack again. “Y-yeah.”

Severa said nothing, sitting with her in silence.

“I saw something,” Noire said softly, at long last.

Severa nodded. It wasn’t an unusual conversation start, at least not by Noire’s standards. “Last night?”

“Yeah. It was in the woods behind the trailer park.”

Severa nodded again. “After I went to bed?”

“When you hung up, I tried to go get something to eat, so I took some change and went to the gas station, and I saw it on the way back.”

“Did you get something to eat?” Severa asked, her tone that of an overprotective mother more than anything else. It was a role she had long ago realized she had begrudgingly signed up for.

“I got...um…” Noire drew her hand back from Severa. “All I could afford was a bag of chips.”

“Is that all you’ve had?” Severa asked, opening her backpack. She withdrew a packed lunchbox and opened it, pulling out her sandwich and handing it to Noire.

She took the sandwich gratefully and peeled the bread apart, checking its contents.

“It’s just ham and cheese,” Severa said.

“With mustard?”

Severa nodded, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know how you can eat the stuff, but now my mom thinks I can’t get enough of it.” Noire voraciously devoured the sandwich. “So anyway, you saw something?”

“Mmph,” Noire said. She swallowed a quarter of the sandwich in one gulp. “Yeah. Or…someone. I couldn’t really see.”

“What did it look like?”

“A person in a robe.”

Severa’s brow furrowed. “That’s a little creepy. Did you see their face?”

Noire shook her head. “No. But I could see the eyes. They were glowing red.”

“Hm.” It wasn’t the first time Noire had told a story like this. She suffered from horrible night terrors and would often recount her episodes of sleep paralysis in terrifying detail to Severa in the mornings. Last week it had been shadow men in the corner of her room, and a before that it was some sort of winged fang-beast tapping at her window. Severa could do little but offer her sympathies.

“He had six.”

“Hm?”

“Eyes. He had six of them.”

 

 

-

 

Lucina sat on the nurse’s table, staring out the window at the schoolyard. The bell had rung a few minutes ago, so the yard was pretty much empty save the few poor stragglers about to get assigned tardy. She squinted at a pair of such dawdlers, recognizing two heads of matching white hair. She laughed.

It was Morgan and Marc, two twins that had recently moved into town with their single father. They were fun kids, but a bit…airheaded to say the least. Downright nuts would be more appropriate, perhaps. Morgan was literally dragging Marc across the schoolyard by his backpack, her hands balled into fists around the pack’s straps. Lucina watched a teacher storm out the front doors towards the two. She couldn’t hear, but from expressions and mouth movements, she guessed Morgan was arguing that being on the school grounds at first bell wasn’t _technically_ being late.

“So, what can I help you with?” the bubbly nurse walked into the room, her blonde hair bobbing.

“Hey, Aunt Lissa,” Lucina smiled. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t technically be allowed to skip roll-call to be at the nurse’s office, but being related to said nurse afforded her certain privileges. It was certainly quite the boon every time Severa dragged herself to the nurses’ office, covered in cuts and bruises from her latest fistfight.

Lissa checked the paper Lucina filled out. “Problems with your eye?”

Lucina nodded. “It’s been bothering me all morning. Severa put eyedrops in, but it doesn’t seem like it’s helped me at all.”

Lissa nodded. “Alright, let me take a look.” She help up her penlight and examined Lucina’s eye. “Can you roll it around a bit? Look left? Look right? Up? Down?” She nodded, tsking and hmming.

“Well, it certainly looks like something,” she said at last. “Are you having trouble seeing?”

Lucina nodded. “It’s just a little blurry. Like opening your eyes underwater.”

Lissa began digging through her drawers of medicine. “I’m not sure how much it will help, but I think I have some medicated eye drops in here somewhere. Give me a minute.” She gave up looking in the drawers and shuffled out of the room to check elsewhere.

Lucina leaned back on her arms, gazing out the window. It was a crisp, bright morning, and now the schoolyard was entirely empty. Well…almost empty. A single figure stood, staring at the school.

She sat up and leaned closer, parting the blinds to get a better look. Her one eye wasn’t enough to see clearly, so she rubbed her other one. Leaving it closed, she got a better look at the figure. It was a hooded figure, staring across the schoolyard in the direction of the nurse’s office. It was almost as if it was staring straight through the window, through the blinds and directly into her. It wasn’t just a casual glance, either. It chilled Lucina to the bone. The hooded figure’s face was dark and obscured, but in the shadow she could swear she saw six points of red light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have been listening to 80s Spotify playlists all week, so Lucina was listening to The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen while getting ready for school, and Inigo was listening to Does Your Mother Know? by Abba on his tape player.


	3. Sept 4th, 8:13 AM

“Something interesting?” Lissa asked, startling Lucina out of her transfixed gaze so suddenly that she jumped. “Jeez, did I scare you?”

“No, it’s…” Lucina rested a hand over her frantically beating heart. “Just startled.”

“Hm,” Lissa pursed her lips. “Well, at any rate, I found some drops that might do the trick. It’ll sting a little, but it should dissolve whatever’s in your eye. Okay?”

Lucina nodded and tilted her head back for the second time this morning. As promised, it stung – not just a little, but a lot, and she found herself doubled over, eyes watering. “Ah! Ouch!”

“Okay, sorry,” Lissa admitted. “It actually stings quite a lot, particularly if it’s getting deep. Here.” She handed Lucina a damp cloth and she gratefully pressed it against her eye.

“Jesus Christ, that hurts,” she breathed.

“Hey! Language,” Lissa frowned. “You want me to tell your father you’re talking like that?”

“No, Aunt Lissa,” Lucina grumbled, pulling the cloth from her eye. She blinked rapidly.

“Feeling better?”

Lucina nodded. It seemed to have done the trick, and now other than the subsiding stinging, her eye seemed to be working just fine. She rolled both eyes around and blinked, trying to reset her vision.

“Good!” Lissa said brightly. “You can still probably make it to first period if you hurry.”

Lucina hopped off the table and picked up her backpack. She paused for a minute, glancing at the window. The figure was gone, the schoolyard now entirely vacant save the wind. She frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“Aunt Lissa, did you see a man out front of the school this morning?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Did you see someone?”

“I’m not sure.”

 

-

 

Lucina was the first to arrive to the lunchroom and sat at their usual table, setting down her tray and beginning to fuss with her carton of milk. It wasn’t great food, but she hated getting up early to pack her own lunch – or, god forbid, suffer the humiliation of having her mom pack her lunch still. She was in twelfth grade, after all, and practically an adult (though her eighteenth birthday wasn’t until April). Having her mom pack her lunch would be such a childish thing to do.

“Aw man, mom forgot my drink!” Severa pouted, slapping her half-empty lunchbox down on the table. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get a soda.” Lucina nodded and waved her off.

Next to arrive was Morgan, setting down her tray and immediately digging into her food. A few paces behind her was her twin.

“You know, pizza isn’t actually a balanced meal,” Lucina pointed out, noting that both of their trays were piled with nothing but slices of pepperoni pizza.

“Psh!” Morgan scoffed. “Look! It’s got bread, dairy, vegetables, and meat! That’s four of the five food groups!”

Marc smacked her head and sat next to her. “Tomato is a fruit, and besides, there are six food groups.”

“I thought they took out the sugar and fats one?” Lucina asked.

“Nah, it still counts,” Marc said through a mouthful of pizza.

“You called?” a fourth student joined them, a short girl with two long, thin braids draped over her shoulders.

“No, I was saying ‘Nah’.”

Nah scowled and opened her lunchbox before sifting through its contents. “Do we have to do this every day?”

A breathless boy staggered up to the table, flapping a paper wildly. He let it slip from his hands and it fluttered across the table in Lucina’s general direction.

“Gotta go!” Inigo said in a hushed voice. “Owain is setting off some firecrackers in the bathroom!” he darted away from the table, almost bowling over Severa as he went.

“Idiot,” she muttered, brushing roughly past him and sitting down, glass bottle of soda in her hands. With a hiss, she popped the lid off and gulped half of it down in a single swig.

“Did he say they were setting off fireworks in the bathroom?” Marc asked, wiping his mouth with the side of his oversized sleeve.

“Owain’s trying to get out of his English report,” Nah explained calmly. “I think they’re trying to set off the fire alarm.”

“Idiots,” Severa repeated. She leaned across the table and nabbed a cookie from Lucina’s tray. Her sister swatted at her hand a second too late and Severa triumphantly stuffed it into her mouth.

“I thought mom packed you a dessert!”

Severa shrugged, not speaking through her mouthful of food.

Lucina craned her neck, peeking into Severa’s lunchbox. “Hey, you already ate all your food! Don’t steal mine!”

Severa tilted her head back and washed the cookie down with the rest of her soda.

“Hey, Severa, did you hear about Gerome’s new car?” Marc asked excitedly.

“It’s not really new,” Morgan interjected. “It’s a hand-me-down from his mom.”

“Hey, a car is a car!” Marc retorted. “Wish _I_ had one.”

“You’d just crash it if you had one,” Lucina laughed. “I’m honestly surprised Gerome even has his license.”

“He doesn’t,” Nah said, picking at her food. “He has a learner’s permit still, but his mom’s letting him take the car to school.”

“Doesn’t he only live like…a mile away? That’s not too far to walk,” Lucina said. “Sevvy and I walk farther than that.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Severa said, kicking her feet up on the table. Nah immediately shoved her feet back down, but Severa continued, heedless. “It’s a dick thing, right?” she looked pointedly at Marc.

He blushed. “What are you even talking about?!”

 “You know! The bigger the car, the smaller the-“ before she could finish, a piercing bell rang, echoing through the cafeteria and drowning out the scattered groups of conversing eaters. Severa rolled her eyes and looked at Lucina, who did likewise. They packed up their belongings with no sense of urgency and began to shuffle out of the cafeteria, merging into a stream of students exiting the school.

A teacher shouted over the din. “Stay in a single file, orderly line! Remember your group leader and line up behind them!”

Lucina waved goodbye to Severa, who split off to find her own emergency drill group. It was based on whatever class they were in at lunch, so in a matter of minutes the crew from the table all went their separate ways, save Morgan and Lucina, who were both in physics. The two shuffled off into the crowd, exiting the front of the school and emerging in the warm late-summer air. It was light and breezy and though Lucina knew that Owain and Inigo (and probably Gerome too, if she were being honest) were idiots who were most certainly going to get in trouble, she was grateful for the chance to get some fresh air. It had been a long, strange, morning, and it felt good to stand around in the schoolyard, feeling the wind on her face and chatting with Morgan as they waited for the all-clear sign.

She peered into the throng of poorly-organizing students, spying a head of grey hair. Inigo turned to her and winked. She shot him a glare and he laughed, dipping back into the horde of movement, tailed by a taller boy with red hair.

“Anyway, she told me if I get another tardy, then I have to stay for after school detention,” Morgan continued. “It was Marc’s fault, really, since he was the one who took so long tying his shoes. I’ve gotten our schedule down to the millisecond. If I wake up at 7:20, I have just enough time to get dressed and sprint to school before first bell.”

“Uh-huh,” Lucina nodded, only half-listening. A thought crossed her mind. “Hey, Morgan, you were late today, right?”

Morgan gave her an odd look. “…yeah? We were just talking about that.”

“Did you see anything weird on your way to school?”

“Weird?” Morgan sat down in the grass and started picking at the blades. “Like what?”

“I saw a weird…person out front of the school. You didn’t see anything like that?”

Morgan shook her head. “Nope, can’t say I did.”

Lucina swiveled her head, looking around at the milling students in the schoolyard. The high school was a short brick building, only one floor, U-shaped with the courtyard in the middle. One wing housed humanities, the other STEM. Spread out before them was the parking lot, then the sports fields dotting the hills that sloped down and away from the school. And then, beyond that, more neighborhoods. It was a sunny, peaceful morning. Lucina sighed, a yawn caught in her throat. Her chest felt tight.

Something felt off.

She felt a cold chill, like a breeze cutting through her clothes like a knife. Her skin crawled and she massaged the back of her neck, trying to rub out the goosebumps that appeared. She stared at the fields.

Suddenly, a flash of pain struck her head. She doubled over, clutching her eye.

“Luci?!” Morgan sat upright at attention.

“Ah…” she gasped. It felt like her eyeball was on fire. She felt tears streaming from her squeezed eyelids. “M-Morgan,” she stammered, holding out her hand to her friend. Morgan took her arm and steadied her.

“What’s wrong?”

Lucina opened her eyes and stared at Morgan. Her left eye was shimmering, rimmed with tears. Burned into the iris was a strange symbol. Morgan stared, mouth gaping.

Lucina stumbled forward and collapsed onto her hands and knees, staring out at the hills and neighborhoods. What she saw was no longer the peaceful, idyllic scene of a beautiful New England suburb, nor was it the portrait of mid-day serenity. Instead she saw a black sky, blotted with smoke and ash. Bolts of firelight crackled through the clouds, striking into the ground in showers of sparks. The houses were burnt-out smoldering ruins and the trees turned to wiry strands of brittle charcoal. The grass of the fields was charred in swaths, and what grass remained unscathed was a sickly, withering yellow. Lucina gasped for breath. She stared up into the sky.

In the far darkness above she could see a shape, massive and imposing. She could only see the outline by crackles of lightning, each bolt illuminating but a portion of the colossal silhouette. Sparks danced across it, revealing shapes writhing in the clouds above. Massive black wings beat at the air and nameless forms cut through the air.

Lucina stared in horror, her breath catching. She clutched her stomach, fighting the urge to vomit but unable to take her eyes off the impossible behemoth. Through it all, the mass of black and the swirling clouds of ash, she could see them. Six eyes, staring straight at her.

“Luci, you okay?” a voice cut through her mind, shattering the illusion. She blinked rapidly, seeing nothing but green hills and milling students. “You just zoned out for like…a minute straight, then fell over.” Morgan said, helping her to her feet.

“Y-yeah,” Lucina said, bewildered. She rubbed her eyes. The pain was gone. She looked at the schoolyard. Evidently the fire alarm was over, and students were now slowly making their way back into the building. She turned and took one last look at the fields below. In the distance, on the edge of the school’s property, she saw for just a second the silhouette of a man. She blinked and it was gone.

 

-

 

“H-Hey, Severa,” Noire said softly, tugging at her sleeves. “Would you w-want to do something after school today?”

“Sorry,” Severa said, slamming her locker shut. The sound of metal snapping startled Noire, who gasped softly. “I told Morgan I’d work on our history project together.”

“O-oh, okay,” Noire said. She was staring at her shoes, a worn and dirty pair of sneakers. “How long did you think that might take? I can just wait for you.”

Severa sighed. “It’s okay, Noire. You can just go without me.”

“I thought we could maybe get dinner or something?”

Severa exhaled, trying to not let her frustration show. “I’m having dinner with Morgan. We were gonna work in the library, then stop for pizza on the way home.”

 “O-oh.”

Severa touched her arm lightly. “It’s okay, Noire. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“Yeah,” Noire said.

“Here, I’ll walk you out.” Severa slung her backpack over one arm and began the trek down the hall towards the exit. Noire walked by her side, not speaking.

Severa felt fingertips brush her hand. She sighed and opened her palm, letting Noire take her hand. She blushed, hoping that no one would notice in the hustle and bustle of students eager to get their things and leave school for the day. Noire squeezed her hand gently and Severa returned the gesture.

They said nothing to each other, weaving through the crowds of students leaving the building and finally arriving at the lobby. Severa let go of her hand and smiled.

“Hey, uh…have a good night, okay?”

Noire nodded. “C-can…” she blushed, tucking her face into her shoulder. “Can I have a hug?”

Severa sighed and wrapped her arms around her. She squeezed for a second then let go, immediately scanning the lobby to check that no one was paying them any attention. It’s not that she was _embarrassed_ to be dating such a loser. It was just that she was weird about PDA. At least, that’s what she told herself.

“I have had,” Lucina said, taking a deep breath and arriving at their side. “The _weirdest_ day. I think I’m gonna go home and lie down.”

“Oh, hey!” Severa said brightly. “Luci, you mind walking with Noire on your way home?”

Lucina furrowed her brow, taken aback. She had barely ever spoken to Severa’s girlfriend before.  Most of what she knew was Severa griping about having to deal with her crap. “Um…okay, I guess?”

“Cool! See you at home, then. And Noire, I’ll call you. Promise.” She waved them off and turned back to the hallway, ready to set off for a productive evening of actually doing schoolwork for a change.

“Hey there, lovergirl.” A taunting voice drifted across the lobby, stopping Severa in her tracks. She rolled her eyes and groaned.

“What do you want?”

“Nothin’,” said the voice. A tall, preppy girl with brown pigtails sidled up to her, entourage of a few other girls in tow.

“Cynthia, don’t you have like…a gymnastics pole you should be falling off of or something?”

“It was ONE time!” Cynthia snapped, glowering. “I still got third place.”

Severa shrugged.

“Besides, at least I don’t spaz out in the middle of gym class like your girlfriend does.”

That gave her pause. Noire hadn’t said anything about that, but Severa sure as hell wasn’t going to let Cynthia know. “She’s anemic. So what?”

One of the other girls leaned forward. “I saw your sister fall over during the fire drill, too! At this rate, you’re probably gonna be next!” The circle of girls laughed.

Severa clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists. She hated being picked on, but she hated being out of the loop even more. “What are you even _talking_ about?” she snapped.

“Luci tripped over her own feet, it looked like!”

Cynthia nodded. “I guess ineptitude just runs in the family, huh? I guess I can at least see why you’d be attracted to-“

Severa barreled forwards, fists raised. She had planned on not letting herself get provoked, but…

Before she could swing a fist, a sturdy hand clamped down on her arm. She squirmed and writhed, trying to free herself. “Lemme at her! Fuck you!” Cynthia laughed and walked off, her cronies not far behind.

“You don’t want to get suspended, do you?”

Severa turned to look at her roadblock. It was a tall boy, dressed head to toe in black, with slicked back red hair. “I heard you got a car,” she said, not missing a beat.

“It’s just my mom’s car,” Gerome said, rubbing his eyes. “Do you have to get into a fight every day?”

Severa grumbled. “It’s not my fault. She started it.”

“She likely wouldn’t single you out if you weren’t so easy to provoke.”

“I am NOT easy to provoke!” Severa protested, folding her arms over her chest.

Gerome laughed. “Hey, I was thinking about taking a drive down to the reservoir this evening, if you’d want to come along. I was going to go with Inigo but he said he’s busy.”

Severa glared at him. “No thanks, moron. I have stuff I need to do.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and walked off. “Don’t forget about the ten bucks you owe me,” he called behind him. Severa groaned.

Maybe now she could finally make it to the library without getting stopped by yet another distraction. She pointedly ducked her head down, lifting her arm up to cover her face as she passed by a boy with wild blonde hair shouting excitedly. It sounded like he was trying to convince another student to join the theater club. Again, it’s not that she _disliked_ Owain, it was that she was in a bad mood and perhaps a single ounce of his bullshit would be enough to send her into a frothing rage.

The halls emptied quickly, the only remaining stragglers being students on their way to clubs and sports. She waved hello to a muscular and limber girl named Kjelle, her arms loaded with heavy pads and helmets. She also passed Yarne, a slender boy with a shock of white hair in his mess of brown. He cowed in fear away from her angry glare.

At long last she arrived at the library, all but empty now. It was fairly small as far as school libraries went, just a few rows chest-high shelves and larger bookcases pressed back against the walls. As she expected, Laurent was sitting at a desk, diligently doing his homework. He was the spitting image of his mother, the history teacher -  the very one who assigned this dumb town history presentation anyway. Severa resisted the urge to make a snide remark and instead opted for crossing the library to the sets of long wooden tables, now covered in scattered piles of books. Morgan was there already, chewing on her pencil eraser and thumbing through her notebook.

“Hey,” Severa said, dropping her backpack on the table and sliding into the seat next to her.

“Hey yourself,” Morgan said, not looking up. 

“Did something happen to Luci at lunch?” Severa asked. She unzipped her backpack and began rifling through her binders, digging for the assignment sheet.

“Huh? Oh, uh…” Morgan set down her notebook. “She said her eye was giving her trouble then fell over? I told her to go to the nurse but she insisted she was fine, just a little shaken. I figured _you_ might know.”

Severa shook her head. “She was having trouble with her eye this morning, but that’s about it.”

Morgan shrugged. “Eh, guess we’ll find out one way or another. So anyway.” She flipped open her notebook. “This history project.”

It was a project they had been assigned in randomized pairs, and Severa was thankful she at least got someone she knew as a partner. Morgan didn’t get great grades, nor was she the most clever student, but it was better than being paired with a stranger. Or, even worse – Cynthia, who sat behind Severa and would often “accidentally” kick her chair. So, all things considered, Morgan was okay.

It was a simple enough project, meant to get them into the spirit of studying history at the beginning of the semester. Each pair would be assigned a topic in Ylisse’s history and would have to put together a presentation. Groups covered topics ranging from notable town figures to the town’s role in various wars to different aspects of the town economy. Unfortunately, Severa and Morgan had been assigned the first topic – an overview of the founding of Ylisse, from colonial times up till it’s incorporation into the union.

Severa grumbled, her gaze boring holes in the paper. “Ugh, I don’t care about any of this crap!”

“Me neither, but we’re the first presentation. We can’t phone it in,” Morgan said, scribbling in her notebook. Severa peered at what she was doing – it was actually scribbling, just dragging her pencil back and forth. “Uh…okay, what do we know so far?”

Severa shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Come on. You’ve lived in this town for sixteen years, you’re telling me you don’t know _anything_?”

“What about you?!” Severa said, offended.

“I just moved here!”

Severa groaned and laid her head down. “Um…it was founded like…in the seventeen hundreds? I think? When were witch trials a thing?”

“Uh…that sounds right,” Morgan said. It wasn’t. She wrote “1700s?” in her notes. “What else?”

“Um…” Severa sat up, wracking her brain. She had done all the tours of all the historic crap dozens of times in elementary school, but it had long since slipped out of her brain like so much porridge. “Marth? That’s a name.” Morgan wrote it down. Severa puffed out her cheeks and popped her lips. “Ugh…um…okay, so…Marth was…the son of a nobleman, or something. And he had a wife and a sister. And they…founded the town, I guess?” She was on a roll now. “And they had some big fight with some neighboring territories for land? And I know there were witch trials at some point.” She smiled, pleased with her memory. “What do we have so far?”

Morgan frowned and turned her notebook to face Severa. She had scribbled “Marth” at the top, with arrows pointing to the words “sister” and “wife”. Also on the page in circles were the words “war?” and “witches?”.

Severa groaned and put her head down, quickly realizing that they would indeed have to read books for this project.

“That’s three words that start with ‘W’. That’s a theme, right?”

“Working hard, ladies?” a voice came from above them. Severa found herself looking into the severe face of their history teacher. Miriel sniffed and adjusted her glasses.

“We just started,” Morgan explained frantically, trying in vain to cover her sheet of useless information.

“If you’ll recall, I specifically required you use sources you find _outside_ of this building,” Miriel said sternly. “Books are incredibly useful resources, but the information found here will be surface-level at best. I might suggest the town archives as a good place to start. Or at least the county library. The librarian there is incredibly knowledgeable about local history and would probably be quite a boon to the two of you.”

Severa grumbled under her breath. Not only reading, but _talking to people?_ To _strangers? Adults?_

“Yes, ma’am,” Morgan said, shutting her book.

“I am glad to see you getting a head start, though. Keep up the good work.” With that, she departed, stopping to fetch her son before leaving the library.

“Ugh,” Morgan groaned.

“You said it.”


	4. Sept 4th, 4:26

Lucina flopped onto her bed, exhausted. It had been an awkward walk home. As per her sister’s request, she walked with Noire, who had been silent the entire walk. Any time Lucina tried starting a conversation, her answers were abrupt and to-the-point at best. When she wasn’t downright ignoring her, lost in her own thoughts. They had parted ways at Lucina’s street.

She didn’t actually know where Noire lived – Severa had been scant about details, even though she had visited Noire’s home several times.

Lucina closed her eyes and let to the tinny music from her tape deck wash over her. If she was being honest with herself, she had no idea what Severa even saw in the girl. It’s not that she was weird – well, no weirder than Severa herself. She just seemed so…outside of Severa’s wheelhouse. Oh, well. Not her problem who her sister chose to date.

She sighed, opening her eyes again. When she shut them, the vision came back to her. The fire, the dark shape, those piercing eyes. 

After the incident at the fire drill, her eye had fortunately stopped giving her trouble. She tried to chalk it up to some sort of bizarre eyespot. The dark shape in the sky was probably just flecks of something floating around in her eye. It wasn’t the first time it’d happened.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said, sitting up slightly.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her father poked his head through the bedroom door. “Mind if I come in?”

Lucina shook her head. Chrom was a handsome man, only a bit taller than herself, his hair the same distinctive shade of midnight blue. He was dressed in his work clothes, obviously fresh off the job.

“Hey, dad. How’d the thing with Uncle Freddy go?”

“Hm?” Chrom tilted his head to the side. “Oh, that. It was fine. He and Stahl had a new proposal for zoning the…oh, you don’t care about all that, do you?” he waved his hand. He worked in city government, taking over from Lucina’s Aunt Emmeryn when she died.

“No, I do,” Lucina said half-heartedly.

“Can I sit?” Chrom gestured to her bed.

Lucina sat up and nodded, scooting to the side and allowing her father to sit with her.

“You doing okay?” he asked, gazing across the room at Severa’s bed. After a heated debate, she had managed to acquire the side of the bedroom that had a window, which she was _always_ leaving open. Even in the middle of winter, she’d at least crack it and let a cold breeze in. The window looked out on a section of roof that the girls had been expressly forbidden from climbing out on, though they both did all the time anyway. Severa would sometimes sit out on the roof at night and smoke. Or, at least, she did until Cordelia caught her and grounded her for a month.

The rest of her walls were decorated with posters and cork-boards plastered with memos, sticky notes, and photographs. The sisters got a polaroid camera last Christmas, though Lucina was less apt to snap pictures of whatever caught her fancy. Her half of the bedroom was a little more modest – plain, unadorned walls, a desk pushed up against the foot of her bed, and a single calendar filled with annotated dates and assignments. The calendar had pictures of butterflies on it. This month, September, was blue morpho butterflies.

The tape deck was hers, though, as was the collection of neatly stacked cassette boxes. One was open on her desk, the same tape whose music drifted softly through the air.

“Hm?” Lucina looked up at her father. “Did you say something?”

“I asked if you’re okay.”

“Yeah!” Lucina said, not even convincing herself.

“My sister said you went to the nurses’ office this morning.”

 “Y-yeah,” Lucina bowed her head. “It’s okay though! I feel a lot better now!”

Chrom nodded. He stared into the middle-distance, clearly thinking about something. “Luci…” he turned to her, his face serious. “Did something happen today?”

“N-no?” Lucina said, trying her damnedest to lie convincingly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Lucina said. “I was having trouble with my eye, but then Aunt Lissa gave me some eye drops, then I felt better!”

Chrom stood up. “Lucina…” he stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning down to face her. “If you’re having problems, please don’t think that you can’t come to me,” he said softly. “I realize how often I’m busy with my work, but…you’re my daughter, and I love you.”.

Lucina watched her father. “Where’s this coming from? It wasn’t a big deal.”

Chrom scratched his head thoughtfully. “Luci, I’m just…I’m a little worried about you, that’s all.”

Lucina smiled. “I’m fine! No problems here!”

“No, not about that. About…” Chrom shrugged. “Everything. You seem so…aimless, sometimes. You’re a hard worker, and you’re beautiful and intelligent, but it doesn’t seem like you have any real desire to accomplish much.”

Lucina’s heart dropped. She did know what this was about after all. “Mom told you, huh?”

“I know that college isn’t the right choice for everyone, but it’s the right choice for _you_.” He sat back down on the bed. “You’re so incredibly gifted, and it would be a waste for you to spend your whole life in a town like this. The world is so big and full of wonder, and I’m just worried that if you stay here, you won’t get to see any of it.”

Lucina grimaced. “But you and mom are here! If you don’t like it, why do _you_ stay?”

Chrom laughed. “Luci, I’m on the city council. I have to be here. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get rid of you or anything, but I don’t want you to limit your options.”

“College is just so expensive,” Lucina picked at a loose thread on her bedsheets. “I don’t want to waste a whole bunch of money on a degree I’m not even sure I want.”

“That’s my point,” Chrom said. “I think you just need to think long and hard about what you do want to do. You shouldn’t just give up if the answer doesn’t come to you immediately.”

“I could always just work for the city, like you.”

Chrom laughed and stood up. “A boring old town like this?” He shook his head. “You deserve so much more, Lucina.” He smiled, his face somber and a little sad. “I just want you to think about it, okay?

“Of course, dad,” Lucina smiled. She stood up and hugged him tightly. “I love you.” She squeezed him, nestling her face in his chest, praying he wouldn’t notice the desperation with which she was clinging to him.

 

-

 

“I bet she’s gay,” Morgan said confidently. Severa glared at her.

They had just departed the county library, where they had managed to walk back and forth in front of the librarian’s desk sixteen times before losing the courage to speak to an actual adult. They settled instead for digging up some local history books to check out. They each had one book that they were supposed to read through tonight, but both suspected the other wouldn’t do it. At any rate, though, the real work was done and the sun was setting, shafts of orange light poking through the brick alleyways between the buildings on main street. They were walking in the general direction of Severa’s house, planning to stop and pick up dinner on their way.

“What makes you say that? She’s just a librarian.”

“That’s the gayest profession. Other than artist. Besides, the flannel shirt?”

Severa sighed. “So she had a flannel shirt, and she’s a librarian. That doesn’t mean she’s gay.”

Morgan nodded smugly. “I’m pretty sure it does. Shouldn’t you have a sense for that sort of thing?”

Severa stopped in her tracks, pressing the tip of her boot against a parking meter. She bent down and began retying her laces. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” Morgan said. “Because you’re…” she gestured vaguely in Severa’s general direction.

Severa frowned and got to her feet. “I’m not gay.”

Morgan stared at her, incredulous. “What? Of course you are!”

“No I’m not!” Severa said, almost genuinely offended. They continued their trek down the sidewalk. Cars passed, their headlights casting long shadows across the almost-vacant main street. As soon as the sun set, the town cleared out – the shops closed up and the pedestrians all left for their homes in the suburbs. Fortunately, the main fixtures for high-schoolers stayed open later. Only till 9, but that was practically all-night by Ylissean standards.

“Oh my god, how long have you been dating Noire? You have a girlfriend!”

Severa groaned. “For the last time, she’s _NOT_ my girlfriend!”

“I mean,” Morgan pushed open the glass double-doors to the pizza parlor. The welcome bell jingled and they made their way to a booth. “If I held hands with someone and hugged them and stuff, I’d probably be offended if they didn’t think we were dating. Have you kissed her yet?”

“No!” Severa said, blushing. “God, of course not!”

Morgan laughed. It was always hard to tell when Severa was lying – she had the same red-faced, defensive outburst whether she was lying or telling the truth, but making claims and seeing her react was half the fun.

It was a lie, of course. About both dating and kissing. Though Severa refused to utter the words to anyone else (save her sister, who knew out of the necessity of them sharing a room), it had been nearly a year since she and Noire had started seeing each other. They met in gym class, when Severa had stuck up for her to a cadre of bullies. It was an accident – she mostly had been itching for a fight and saw an opportunity. She realized too late she was taking the side of a loser, which she immediately regretted. But of course, if there’s one thing she hated more than losing, it was admitting she was wrong. So she doubled down on it, putting up with Noire following her around during the rest of the semester’s gym classes.

She stared out the plate glass window to the darkened main street, zoning out. She could see Morgan ordering a pizza behind her in the window’s reflection. She watched a sole pedestrian cross the street and disappear into an alleyway before turning back to Morgan.

“Even if we are dating, it doesn’t make me gay.”

“Are you bi?”

“I don’t-“ Severa blushed, tucking her face into her shoulder. “I mean…I guess so. I’ve only ever dated one person. I mean, it’s not that I’m _against_ dating a guy or whatever, but-“ she snapped her head towards Morgan. “Hey, what the hell do you care anyway?! It’s none of your business!”

“Oh, Marc asked,” Morgan said simply. The waitress dropped off two paper cups filled with a thick, syrupy cola. Severa took a sip. She shrugged and downed half the drink.

“Why does _he_ care?”

“I think he was gonna ask you to homecoming.”

Selena almost spit out her drink. “WHAT?!”

“I know!” Morgan agreed. “I told him you’re a massive bitch, but-“

“Hey!” Severa snapped.

“Nah, just kidding,” Morgan laughed again. “I mean, I did tell him that, but he said he didn’t care. He thinks you’re cute.”

Severa shook her head, disgusted. “Ew.”

“You’re telling me,” Morgan said. “What about your sister? She seeing anyone?”

“I’m sorry,” Severa said indignantly. “Are you playing matchmaker for your brother?”

“So that’s a no…?”

Severa crossed her arms and huffed. “I don’t think so.” The waitress returned with a large paper plate covered in a thin, greasy pizza. It wasn’t great food, but it was cheap, and the entire high school managed to acquire the taste for it. It was a tradition, of sorts – eating it made the freshman nauseous, the sophomores felt neutral about it, and by junior year most of the students began to actually enjoy it. Severa dabbed the grease off a slice with a napkin, making a face as the white paper turned a sickly shade of orange.

Morgan seems to have bypassed all these stages, going in less than a month from vaguely interested in the pizza to having an insatiable appetite for it. She was halfway through her second slice by the time Severa finished de-greasing her first.

“But you’re gonna take Noire, right?” Morgan asked, mouth still full of crust.

Severa shook her head. “Nah, probably not. I don’t think she has any interest in it.”

“Are you gonna take someone else?”

“Not Marc, that’s for sure,” Severa rolled her eyes.

“What about Inigo? He’s cute.”

Severa pursed her lips. She leaned forward. “Okay, you didn’t hear it from me, but I think Luci might have a crush on him.”

“What?” Morgan asked, excited by the gossip. “Are you serious?!” She eagerly pushed aside her empty paper plate and folded her hands on the table. “You gotta tell me everything.”

Severa shrugged. “Just some stuff she was saying about him. I don’t have any concrete proof or anything.” She took another sip of soda.

The rest of the meal passed in much the same way, with talking and laughing and gossiping filling the time. They ordered a second round of sodas and a basket of breadsticks. Even Morgan was unwilling to brave eating _another_ pizza at a place like this. By the time they emerged into the night, the sky was dark and the air was cool. The horizon line glowed purple, the last few streaks of sunlight just specks of orange poking through the trees. The night air felt refreshing.

Selena pressed a hand against her stomach, gurgling softly. She wasn’t one to be brought low by crappy food, but this was all she had eaten today, between being denied breakfast privileges and giving her lunch to Noire.

Morgan, on the other hand, was almost entirely unperturbed. She bounced along happily, balancing her feet on the curb as they made their way off main street. The town streetlights gave way to dusky neighborhood streets, the only illumination coming from glowing windows in houses. They passed Morgan’s house first.

Her house was dark. A light was on in a second-floor bedroom – presumably Marc. Severa yawned and waved goodbye to Morgan. The girl stopped before unlocking her front door, turning to shout down the driveway. In the dark, Severa could only make out a head of white hair.

“Hey, don’t forget to read that book!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Morgan.”

Severa yawned and stretched. Her house was only a bit farther down, maybe just a block away. The night air felt chilly, cutting up her short dress and making her shiver. As she walked, she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed, trying to warm herself up. The sleeveless dress was cute, but the temperature dropped so rapidly that she wished she had brought a jacket. She stared up at the sky. It was a clear night, cloudless and bright. Stars sparkled overhead with no light from the town to drown them out.

She tripped on her boot and almost fell face-first into the street. “Stupid fucking laces,” she grumbled, sitting on the curb and beginning to retie them. She looked up. Something felt off.

It was dark and quiet. That was the strange thing – the silence. No rustling cicadas, no chirping crickets. Nothing but total, all-encompassing silence. They were too far from the highway to hear traffic, and there was no one out in the neighborhood to make any noise. But even so, it felt unnatural. Severa rubbed her ears, seeing if she had some earwax or something. She tapped her boot against the road. Even that sounded muffled and distant. She got to her feet and looked around.

The street was empty. She walked to the center of the road and stared down into the darkness. The street seemed to bend around her, curving into a single point of soft, muffled twilight.

“Hello?” she called. Her voice was almost immediately snuffed out by the oppressive silence. She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hello?!”

Severa was never one to jump at shadows. She hadn’t even been afraid of the dark as a kid. But now, alone and in the silent night, she suddenly felt anxious. She shivered, feeling the skin on the back of her neck pricking up.

She walked faster, trying to outrun the creeping feeling of dread. She gradually increased her pace, picking up speed as she rounded the corner onto her street.

Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted and she bolted, taking off into a dead sprint towards her house. She arrived at the front door, huffing and puffing, frantically sifting her keys out of her backpack and jiggling them in the lock. The key stuck in the latch.

“Come on, you piece of junk,” she urged it onwards, jiggling with increased franticness. With one hand on the knob and the other jiggling the key, she looked over her shoulder behind her. The street was empty.

With a click, the latch turned and she whipped the door open, ducking inside and slamming the door shut behind her. She leaned her back against the door, breathless, her arms spread out as if to keep it from bursting open behind her.

Her family, sitting on the couch, stared at her. Their puzzled expressions examined her wild hair and heaving chest.

“H-hey,” she gasped, doubling over and resting her hands on her knees.

“Welcome home?” Chrom said uncertainly.

 

-

 

“So are you gonna tell me what that was all about?” Lucina asked through a mouthful of toothbrush and minty foam. She stood in the doorway of their room, brushing her teeth. Severa was laying on her bed on her stomach, begrudgingly reading some dry history text. Her damp hair was up, the long tails of scarlet tied up into a loose braid that snaked around her prone form. She showered at night and Lucina showered in the mornings – mostly because it took just about the entire night for her hair to dry. 

“Nothing,” Severa said, shaking her head.

Lucina took the brush out of her mouth. “You just wanted to sprint home for no reason?”

Severa said nothing, distracting herself with her book. Lucina shrugged and returned to the bathroom, still brushing. She spit and rinsed.

She looked up at her reflection in the mirror. She sure didn’t look as tired as she felt. She bent over the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the water get cold before cupping her hands under the stream. She splashed her face with water and rubbed her eyes. When she looked in the mirror again her face was wet, her bangs dripping and her hairline damp. She toweled off and walked back to her room. 

Severa was on her back now, arms fully extended, holding the book over her face.

“You’re gonna drop it on your face,” Lucina predicted, bending down in front of her dresser and digging out her pajamas.

“This book is stupid,” Severa said, ignoring her remark. “I don’t give a crap about any of this.”

“What’s your topic?” Lucina shimmied out of her shirt and tights.

“Uh…the founding of Ylisse. Just the general early history overview stuff.”

Lucina nodded and pulled on a powder blue floral nightgown and stood up. “I think that’s the same topic that Nah had last year. She probably still has some of her notes, if you want to ask tomorrow.”

Selena nodded. “If it means I don’t have to read any more of this crappy book, I’d ask _anyone_.”

Lucina shuffled around the room, making sure her bag was packed for the next day before pulling the covers back on her bed. “Light on or off?” she asked, hovering her hand over her desk lamp.

“Uh…keep it on. I’m almost finished with this chapter.”

Lucina slid into bed and wrapped the covers tightly around herself. As usual, Severa had cracked the window, but on a night like this the breeze was perfect. It felt calming and filled the room with the scent of rustling leaves and cool night air.

“Hey, Sevvy,” Lucina said, laying on her back.

“Mmhm?”

Lucina was quiet for a few moments, prompting Severa to lower her book and turn to face her. “What’s up?”

Lucina rolled over. “Did something happen on the way home tonight?”

“I already told you no,” Severa said, turning back to her book. “Just forget it.”

“Right before you got home, my eye started hurting again.”

That got Severa’s attention. She sat up, closing the book and setting it aside. “What?”

“Just a few minutes before you got home, my head started throbbing and my eye got all fuzzy again, just like this morning. Did you notice anything weird?”

Severa took a deep breath and cocked her head to the side. “I…I’m not sure, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“I stopped to tie my shoes and I just…got this weird feeling. Like something wasn’t right.”

“Like someone was watching you?”

“Sort of,” Severa frowned. “It felt like…you know when you’re taking a test, and someone behind you is like…fidgeting, or tapping their feet, or just like…moving? And your face is forward and the whole room is still and silent, but you can feel that movement behind you? It felt like that.”

“Did you see something?”

Severa shook her head, reaching up and running her fingers through her wet hair. “No. It was dark, though. I just got freaked out and ran home.”

“Did the feeling go away when you got home?”

“I think so,” Severa said. “I don’t know.” She shuddered.

They both sat in silence on their respective sides of the room, each presumably lost in thought. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and get ready for bed,” Severa said at last. She set her book on the desk and walked out of the room.

Severa slept poorly, tossing and turning throughout the entirety of the night. She lay on her side, facing the window, staring out into the dark night. From here she could see the short section of roof, and beyond that their backyard. It was an empty square of green grass bordered by short bushes. In the moonlight the yard shone as a vast illuminated space of emptiness. She stared at the yard, half-expecting a figure to be standing below, staring back up at her. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, unwilling to tear her eyes from the backyard lest some mysterious entity climb the drainpipe and slide the screen open. At the same time, though, her back was facing the bedroom door - which Lucina had left open.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck prick up. It felt like someone was standing behind her, a hand hovering just above her face. She widened her eyes, afraid to roll over, hoping her peripheral vision would reveal the rest of the room to her.

She could see shadows shifting around the room, a maze of tree branches casting a web of darkness on the wall. Even her posters made her nervous, their details obscured and their shapes vague. She gulped. It felt like someone was standing closer now, close enough that she could feel breath on her neck.

_It’s just the breeze_.

She tried to tell herself that, but she was facing the open window – nary a draft was coming through the mesh screen.

“L-Luci,” she said fearfully, wrapping her arms around herself. “Luci?”

She could practically hear it now, the rise and fall of ragged breath behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the covers over her head. “L-Luci?” she whimpered.

She could hear Lucina roll over and mumble something in her sleep.

Severa rolled onto her back, still shivering beneath her blanket. Through the semi-transparent fabric she could see the room, though the details were fuzzy. The room was empty – Lucina was snoring softly in her bed, and the bedroom door remained open but undisturbed. Severa let out a breath.

She chided herself for being so childish and tugged the blanket down. It’s not like she was actually afraid of the dark, she was just a bit wigged out from the walk home still. She braced herself as she pulled the blanket away from her eyes, still expecting something to be in the room. She rolled over.

Lucina was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She mumbled something.

“Luci!” Severa hissed. “Are you awake?”

As if to answer Severa’s question, she immediately flopped back to her pillow and rolled over.

Severa took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure what time she fell asleep, but the next morning she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. 


	5. Sept 5th, 7:20 AM

Lucina and Severa returned to a school lobby wreathed in silence. Students still gathered in groups, but their voices were hushed and infrequent. The air of the building felt tense.

They both knew immediately who to turn to to figure out what was going on.

“Hey Inigo, is Morgan here yet?” Lucina asked, sidling up to the grey-haired boy and his circle of comrades. He shook his head, his face grim.

“Damn,” Lucina said, disappointed. “Do _you_ know what’s going on?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Nah asked, poking her head up.

“No,” Lucina said. “Did something happen?”

“It’s Gerome,” Nah said. “His mom said he didn’t come home last night.”

“What do you mean?” Lucina asked.

“No one’s seen him since school let out yesterday,” Inigo said, fidgeting nervously. “They found his car down by the river, but he’s gone.”

Severa nodded. “Yeah, he asked me if I wanted to go with a drive yesterday. He’s probably just off being moody somewhere, right?”

Nah shook her head. “Maybe, but it’s still weird.”

“You don’t think he’s…like…in trouble, do you?” Lucina asked, surprised. “He probably just ran away or something?”

“To where?” Severa scoffed. “It’s not like there’s anywhere to go.”

Nah shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But his mom was freaking out. She called the cops and everything.”

The rumor mill was in full force, and by noon that day the entire school was abuzz with the knowledge of a missing student. There were few concrete facts – Gerome was missing and his car was found at the mouth of the river, where it fed into the reservoir. At that point, speculation began. The most prevalent rumor was that they had found footprints leading from his car into the foothills of the mountains, where they vanished into the underbrush. No one quite knew what that meant – Gerome had always been a bit eccentric, and a Thoreau-esque abandonment of society wasn’t _entirely_ out of the question, but the fact that he left no trace behind meant that there was no proof. And that was just a rumor anyway.

Of course, the teenage obsession with morbidity was a strong undercurrent as well, with speculation that he had drowned himself in the lake (perhaps over a girl? perhaps over a boy?) or that he had simply been mauled by a wild bear. Students had been hesitant to bring up the idea that one of their own could be dead, but once it was mentioned it was all that anyone considered.

“You know, if a kid in your class dies, you get an A for the semester,” Morgan said, licking the lid from a cup of yogurt. Marc glared at her.

“That’s not true. And even if it was, it’s not like he was in any of your classes!”

Inigo was silent, resting his head face-down on the cafeteria table. Lucina set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, Inigo?” she asked, concerned.

“I feel sick,” he mumbled. There was no trace of the flirty troublemaker here. “I think I’m gonna see if I can go home early.”

Lucina squeezed his arm. “It’s alright. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” He nodded.

Severa sat down heavily, plopping her lunchbox down in front of her.

Lucina peeked at it. “Hey, you actually waited till lunchtime to eat today!”

“Yeah,” Severa muttered. “Hey, have any of you seen Noire today?” She looked around the table, blank faces and shrugs her only response. She scowled. “Fat lot of good you are. None of you have seen her?”

Nah shrugged. “I don’t have any classes with her.” The others murmured in agreement. Severa groaned inwardly – it was an answer she had expected, considering Noire was a year younger than the assembled crew, but…

Severa got to her feet. Her anxiety had now given way to impatience and frustration. She hadn’t seen Noire at all. She also had forgotten to call last night, even after she promised. And on top of that, Gerome’s disappearance made her paranoid. If he disappeared, who was to say she wouldn’t as well?

Not that the rest of the school seemed to care. Noire missed school all the time, so this was nothing new. And it’s not like there were mysterious circumstances, like with Gerome, right? Severa tried telling herself this, but she knew no amount of words would comfort herself. If Noire was abducted by aliens and vanished in a glowing green tractor beam, the other students probably _still_ wouldn’t take notice.

She gathered up her courage and determination and crossed the cafeteria.

“Cynthia,” Severa stood over her, arms crossed. The determination was to not punch her fucking teeth in if she said something shitty.

“Oh, hey, Severa,” Cynthia said, puzzled. “Do you want something?”

“I do, actually,” Severa snapped. “You seen Noire today?”

Cynthia sighed. “No, I haven’t seen your weird girlfriend today.”

“You have gym with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Cynthia said flatly. “She wasn’t there.”

Severa growled and stamped off. She would have to call after school, which meant three more hours of anxious stomachaches. She stopped at the side of the cafeteria, bending over a water fountain and taking a drink. She watched her sister comforting Inigo.

The two boys had been close – in fact, with Owain, the three of them were hardly separated. They hung out after school, were in the same clubs…it had been a natural fit, somehow. They met in theater, where Owain’s natural theatrics, Inigo’s penchant for music and dance, and Gerome’s moody but dramatic personality matched up almost perfectly. Owain seemed to be taking the news a bit better, but it could also be that he was better at masking his feelings.

“Our fair companion is certainly fine!” he was saying, attempting to reassure the table in his own way. “It would take more than anything this world can throw at him for Gerome to shuffle off this mortal coil.”

Inigo sighed. “It’s really not the time for that, Owain.”

“Sorry,” Owain apologized.

“Owain’s right,” Lucina said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure he’s fine, and he has his own reasons for heading off. I mean, you can’t say any of you _haven’t_ considered skipping town, right?” She herself had no inclination to do so, but she knew her sister had threatened to run away dozens of times. Not that she ever did.

Nah nodded. “Someone like him wasn’t meant for this boring town anyway, right? The lake is to the west, right? If he kept heading that way, he’s probably arrive in Valm if he went far enough, right?”

“It’s a reservoir, not a lake,” Marc corrected.

“Yeah, and if he did that, then he’d be in _Valm_ , which is even worse than Ylisse,” Severa interjected, sitting back down.

“Dumb local rivalries aside,” Lucina said, “is there any reason to not go there? Maybe it was just about getting away from home. You know.” She shrugged.

Inigo sat up. “Then why didn’t he _say_ anything?” he asked with frustration. “We could have gone with him! And why didn’t he take his car?”

“I don’t know,” Lucina admitted. “None of us do. It’s all just guesswork.”

Inigo frowned.

“Besides,” Lucina smiled at him. “There’s no reason to give up hope. It’s been less than a day. He’ll turn up.” She took his hand and squeezed lightly. He smiled back.

 

-

 

“Hey, Inigo,” Lucina touched his arm softly. He hadn’t gone home early after all, but had spent the period after lunch in the nurse’s office. “Want to walk home with me?”

He nodded and shut his locker.

“I’m sure it’s going to be okay,” Lucina repeated herself as they emerged from the crowd of students into the late afternoon. It was warm and breezy, and the sky was still blue.

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

Lucina nodded. As much as he could be hard to handle sometimes, Inigo was a good kid. Seeing him down in the dumps was heartbreaking. “Hey, so how’s theater going? Have you decided what the winter play is going to be?”

Inigo shrugged. “I think the current front-runners are _Fiddler on the Roof_ and _Something’s Afoot_.”

“Do you have a preference between the two?”

He shrugged again.

“Jeez, you must be in a bad mood if you don’t even want to talk about theater.” She gave him a teasing punch on the shoulder. He was still staring at his feet.

“Hey…” Lucina said softly. “Um…did you wanna, like…do something, maybe?”

“Like what?” he looked up.

“I don’t know,” Lucina said. “We could get dinner or something? It’s still early, but I could eat.”

“Yeah, sure.”

They only had three options – the pizza parlor (which was a no-go for Lucina, who already had a delicate stomach), the café (which served traditional American fare), and the drugstore (which primarily served milkshakes and sodas but also had a decent selection of pre-wrapped sandwiches and potato chips). Of the three, they opted for the café.

Lucina watched Inigo half-heartedly prod the menu, a single sheet plastered along the back side with advertisements for local businesses. The brightly printed text over the selection of food proclaimed the name _Anna’s Bistro._

“Not feeling it?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would he just leave?”

Lucina shrugged. “I don’t know, Inigo.” She brushed a knot out of her hair with her fingers.

“There’s something else going on here,” he continued. “I just know it. Gerome wouldn’t leave without telling Owain and me first. And he certainly wouldn’t go anywhere without his car. If he left it there…”

“We really just don’t know anything,” Lucina said.

He frowned. “I need to see it.”

“What? The car?”

He nodded. “I know him better than anyone. If I just saw where he last was, I bet I could piece together whatever happened to him.”

Lucina sighed, knowing that she probably shouldn’t encourage him. “They said his car was down at the reservoir. Do you want to go check it out?”

 

-

 

“Come on, come on…” Severa tapped the receiver frantically, trying to will the phone through the dial tones faster. She peered through the glass wall of the phone booth, watching pedestrians milling down the street.

“Hello?” a stern, low voice was on the other end of the line.

“Oh. Hello, Ms. Tharja,” Severa said, cursing to herself. “Is Noire there?”

She heard a shuffling sound on the other end of the phone. Then, a muffled voice. “Noire! Phone!” There was no noise but a muffle buzzing, then finally a click and a voice. Severa flooded with relief.

“H-hello?”

“Noire, thank god!”

“Hi, Severa,” she said softly. “What’s up?”

“You missed school today! I was worried about you! Haven’t you heard about what happened to Gerome?!” Severa spilled out all of her thoughts at once.

“No? What happened to him?” Noire asked.

“Never mind that, what happened to _you_? Why did you miss school today?”

“Oh, I just overslept,” Noire said. “I had trouble sleeping last night, then I guess I just slept through my alarm.”

“Jeez,” Severa said, letting out a breath. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that? Have you heard about Gerome?”

“No, what happened?” Noire’s voice was soft and tinny on the other side of the line. It crackled in and out.

“No one’s seen him,” Severa explained. She leaned against the glass wall of the phone booth and crossed her legs. “He wasn’t at school today, and his mom apparently hasn’t seen him since yesterday morning.”

“That’s weird,” Noire said.

“Yeah, definitely. Everyone’s pretty freaked out,” Severa said. “Morgan and Marc come from some big city, apparently, so we had to explain that in a town this size, this is a big deal!” she chuckled, trying to make the situation seem lighter than it was. Noire didn’t really need anything else to worry about.

Noire’s response was lost in distortion. “I…what…you…him?” was all Severa could make out.

“What was that?” Severa rested the phone on her shoulder and jiggled the cord. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“His…you…me?” again, most of her words were drowned in distortion. “What?” she said, the single word coming through clearly.

“Noire? Can you still hear me?” Severa held the phone forward and tapped the receiver. “You there?”

“What?” came a voice of crackling static. “I can’t hear you.”

Severa rolled her eyes. Great. “Listen, I’m at a payphone right now. I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Promise.” There was a response, but she could barely hear it. Noire’s voice was muffled, lost in the haze and distortion on the line. For a moment, though, she could hear a voice.

“Hello? Noire?”

The line cut off, the distortion cutting to abrupt silence. Severa glared at the payphone. Lousy waste of a quarter. She punched it. “Hello?” she said one last time.

A voice rumbled through the line, dark and grave. It wasn’t the words that chilled Severa so much as the way that the voice was delivered. It sounded inhuman, echoing, surrounding her and filling the phone booth with a bone-chilling growl.

_I am the wings of despair_. 

 She shuddered instinctively and slammed the phone back on the hook, staggering backwards out of the booth and into a bike rack, where she knocked over someone’s bike. She clutched a hand to her chest, trying to still her breathing. _What the hell?!_

She stared at the phone booth’s door, left ajar. Despite the warm evening air, she felt very cold. The feeling was back. The creeping despair, the odd sense that something was just not right. She tightened her backpack straps and took off with a light jog, trying to put as much distance between herself and the phone booth as possible.

 

-

 

Lucina held tightly onto Inigo’s stomach, resting her face on his back. It was tricky – she was balancing on two pegs on the back tire of his bike and clinging to him for dear life as he pedaled quickly through town. They had stopped by his house briefly, which fortunately was a short walk. His mother, Olivia, was a dancer and single mother who lived in an apartment above the town’s only performance theater. It was just a block off main street, meaning they were on the road and headed towards the reservoir before the sun even dipped behind the trees. It was still light out as they rode down the back streets, past scattered brick houses and groves of ancient trees.

The suburbs gave way to the forest that bordered the river and soon they were passing through what was affectionately referred to as “Southtown” – the region of Ylisse that consisted mainly of clusters of buildings along the river. They passed a boat rental shop, a bait shop, and two gas stations before they caught sight of the reservoir. Their first glimpse of it came through the trees. Between the waves of green they spied the broad, flat section of river that emptied into the town’s water supply.

They continued following the road for some time until they spied a barricade in the distance ahead. Two parked police cars, sirens off, and a line of bright orange traffic cones. Beyond that, for a split second, Lucina caught a glimpse of another car – a shimmery greenish black, convertible, the soft top down. Even from that hint of a view she knew it was Gerome’s car. “Roadblock ahead,” Lucina called out.

Inigo hit the brakes and skidded, almost flinging her from his bike as he took a sharp turn down into the woods.

“Sorry, it’s going to be a little bumpy,” he said, apologizing too late. As they bounced over roots and rocks, Lucina gritted her teeth to prevent them from rattling out of her skull. Her blue hair trailed in ribbons behind them.

They skidded to a halt on the banks of the reservoir, where the dirt trail fell off into a six-foot drop to the water below. Lucina hopped off the bike and stretched, trying to work out the cricks in what felt like her entire skeleton.

“Sorry it wasn’t the most comfortable ride,” Inigo said sheepishly. “It was either that or walk.”

“It’s fine,” Lucina waved him off. She rotated her head and cracked her neck. “Sorry if I broke your ribs holding on so tight.”

He laughed. “No, it’s fine. You have a lighter grip than Owain, that’s for sure.”

“I thought he had his own bike?” Lucina said, tiptoeing down to the ledge overlooking the water. She kicked a stone and watched it splash when it broke the surface.

“No, he just borrows his dad’s sometimes.” Inigo stepped forward lightly, his feet barely leaving imprints in the dirt.

_Must be his dancer’s feet,_ Lucina mused, watching him step lightly along the ridge.

“So what’s the plan now?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“We scout,” he replied, holding his hands up to block the sunlight while he scanned the lake.

It was a beautiful evening – the cloudless sky reflected perfectly back into the lake. As the sun lowered behind the treeline, the silhouettes of the woods rimmed the lake in a glowing halo of black and orange. Lucina wondered how cold the water was.

She joined Inigo in scanning the reservoir. On their side was forest between where they stood and the road. On the far side, more forest, though they could see what looked to be a cabin or fishing hut. To their right was the dam itself – a massive wall of clean white concrete. A road crossed the dam usually, but now both sides were blockaded by police cars. And to the left, the river wound up through the woods, back into town and eventually up into the mountains. Lucina smirked. It was the opposite, actually – it started in the mountains, and ended here.

“Look, look.” Inigo tapped her and pointed.

From where they stood they could see Gerome’s car more clearly. It was a beautiful car, even to Lucina, who admittedly knew next to nothing about them. A 1970 Buick GS that sparkled in the sunset.

“That’s how you can tell he didn’t go somewhere intentionally,” Inigo pointed. “The top is still down. He’d never leave the top down. It’d ruin the interior.”

Lucina nodded. Again, she didn’t know how the interior would be ruined, but that sounded like a thing a car person would say.

Around the car were two police officers milling about and a forestry ranger wearing an orange safety vest. None of them seemed particularly interested in the investigation.

“Let’s go,” Inigo murmured. He took off into the woods, dancing lightly over fallen branches and twisting roots. Lucina followed behind, somewhat more clumsily. She managed to avoid falling off the ridge into the water, but also managed to get some pretty significant runs in her tights thanks to a poorly placed step into some thornbushes. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t entirely sure what they were even doing here.

Despite his many reassurances that he knew what he was doing, Lucina suspected it was just a matter of disbelief. Perhaps seeing for himself would make it easier to come to terms with. She shook her head.

Why was she writing off Gerome so quickly? It had been one day. Well, one night and one day. Twenty-four hours. There was no reason to suspect anything was amiss. He was a moody teenage boy. Odds were that he was just off sulking in the woods, right? That’s a thing teenage boys did.

Inigo held out an arm, stopping Lucina in her tracks. They crouched in the bushes, slowly moving towards the police cordon.

One of the officers yawned. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” the forest ranger replied. “I don’t even know why we’re still out here. It’s not like there’s anything to find.”

“Apparently the kid’s mom kicked up a real fuss at the police station. She and the chief are old friends, I guess, so they’ve made this a priority.” He scoffed.

“Yeah, ‘priority’,” the first officer grumbled. “Some kid runs away from home, apparently we gotta shut down the whole damn road for it.”

Inigo glared at them and Lucina held out a hand, touching his shoulder lightly. He looked at her and she shook her head.

The pair continued creeping through the foliage, stepping lightly towards the car. Lucina tapped Inigo. “I have an idea. I’ll circle around and distract them. You can get a look.” Inigo nodded.

Lucina circled back, following the trail back to where they had parked the bike. She picked it up and started pushing it up the hill. It was heavier than she expected. By the time she reached the road, she was already out of breath. That, combined with the ripped rights, really lent a lot of credence to her story.

She pushed the bike down the road and hopped on, coasting rather than pedaling. She wasn’t great at riding bikes in the first place, and this was a heavy mountain bike. Plus the seat was too high. She rolled up to the roadblock and practically fell off the bike, staggering to the side and letting the bike clatter to the road noisily. She winced, hoping Inigo wasn’t too uptight about how his bike was treated.

“Hello?” she called, staggering towards the police cars. “Is someone there?”

“Ma’am, you can’t come back here,” one of the officers said, walking towards her.

“Oh, thank goodness! Can you help me?”

The three men, grateful for an ounce of excitement after a day of patrolling a single empty car, headed her way. “What can we do for you?”

Lucina laid it on thick. She tried her best to make her eyes water. “Oh, please help me! I got lost on my way home from school!” she hoped to god she wasn’t blushing from embarrassment. “I saw the signs that this road was blocked off, but tried taking a path through the woods, and, and, and-“ she sniffled.

The three men looked at each other. One stepped forward. “It’s okay, miss. Do you want us to call your parents?” he turned to head back to his car. Lucina looked past him and spotted Inigo, who was leaned over Gerome’s car and sifting through the seats.

“No!” Lucina cried, grasping the man’s arm to prevent him from turning around. “Um!” she tugged at him. “Can you…can you just show me where to go?”

The man looked from her to the other officers, both of whom shrugged. Lucina gave a strained smile and shrugged as well.

She made eye contact with Inigo over the officer’s shoulder and he nodded.

“So where do you live, missy?” the forest ranger stepped forward.

“Um…” Lucina kicked herself internally for failing to remember any road names on the way. If she gave her actual street, they’d know she was lying. Unless, of course, she was hoping to keep them distracted for even longer. “I’m on…T-Themis Boulevard?” she beamed a broad, guilty grin.

The ranger whistled. “You’re way off, miss. That’s back up in town. What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I…um…” Lucina looked at the ground and shuffled a toe in the dirt. “I took a wrong turn, I guess. I was hoping the road would look familiar eventually, but the next thing I knew, I was-“ she froze. “I…”

The officers stared at her.

Suddenly she clutched her face and stumbled forward into the ranger. She collapsed onto the black asphalt and started writhing, groaning and rubbing her eye.

“Miss? Miss?!” the officers knelt next to her. “Miss, are you alright?”

She opened her eyes and stared past them into the sky, gazing in open-mouthed horror. Her eyes watered, her left eye suddenly dark and murky. She lifted a trembling hand up and pointed. The three men around her all looked up simultaneously into the empty orange sky. There was nothing there but trace hints of the nighttime sky.

“Miss, are you okay?” One of the officers grabbed her shoulder and shook her. Still quivering, she lowered her shaking hand back to her chest.

“Luci!” Inigo dashed out of the woods and knelt at her side, confusing the officers even further. “Luci, are you okay?” He waved a hand in front of her glassy eyes.

She gasped and sat up. “W-what? Where am I?” she turned, looking with a blank expression across the faces of Inigo and the three officers.

“I…I think we’d better get you down to the station and have you checked out.”


	6. Sept 5th, 8:45 PM

Lucina and Inigo sat together on a wooden bench in the lobby of the police station. Lucina was still out of it, having experienced the ride in the back of the police car in a sort of numb haze. Inigo held her hand, squeezing lightly.

She had insisted she was fine after the episode, but the officers – perhaps desperate for _some_ sort of activity, insisted on driving them back into town at the police station. A nurse had checked her out – taken her pulse, blood pressure, checked her eyes, checked her throat, ears, and breathing. Finally the nurse agreed that, like the girl herself insisted, Lucina was fine. The officers who brought them in called her father, who had been working late again.

Inigo squeezed her hand again and she smiled at him. “You doing okay?” she asked.

“ _I_ should be the one asking _you_ that!” he protested. “You really scared me, you know?”

Lucina slipped her hand out of his grasp. “It’s fine. I’m okay. Did…did you manage to find anything?”

Inigo shrugged. “I dunno. The rumors were right, though. It looked like there were some footprints heading off into the woods. The driver’s seat floor was pretty dirty, and it looked like the stick shift was ajar.”

“Like someone had tried to drive off in a hurry?”

He nodded. “Maybe. The keys were still in the ignition, too. The weirdest thing, though, was two dirty footprints on the top of the door. It’s almost like…he was just snatched through the open roof or something.” 

Lucina shuddered and hugged herself. The idea of being snatched into the air…it seemed to spark a recollection. She focused, like trying to remember a dream the day after, when all the details became an unrecognizable blur. She knew that when she collapsed, she saw…things, for lack of a better word. Something, though she couldn’t quite remember what. Only the feeling remained. The dread, the sickening feeling that something awful was going to happen.

She remembered Severa’s words from the night before. _Maybe it’s happening to her, too_.

“You thinking about something?” Inigo shook her arm softly.

“Sorry, just zoning out. I’m tired.”

Inigo nodded. The sun had set by now, and they could see through the windows out into the dark parking lot. A single row of high streetlights illuminated the mostly empty parking spaces.

Lucina closed her eyes and felt herself lightly drifting towards Inigo’s shoulder. She let herself rest her head on him. She was pleased when he didn’t shift to move away.

He took a deep breath. “We…we’d been dating,” he said softly.

“Hm?” Lucina said.

“Gerome had asked me out a few weeks ago. We were going to get dinner and see _Re-Animator_ this weekend.”

“I didn’t know you liked horror movies,” Lucina said sleepily.

“I don’t. I hate scary stuff, but he really wanted to see it. And I thought…you know, if I got scared, I could hold his hand or something. We’ve been dating for a while, I guess, but…”

Lucina nodded.

“Guess that probably won’t happen now.”

Lucina didn’t respond – she was snoring softly, her tresses of blue hair cascading down his shoulder. He sighed and leaned his head against hers, closing his eyes.

They were startled awake by a loud bustling from behind the secretary’s desk.

“Miss Cherche, I assure you that my men are doing as much as they possibly can to find your son!” The police chief burst out of his office, a frantic woman in tow. The chief was a tall, bald man with dark skin and an eyepatch across one eye. The rumor was he lost it in Vietnam, but no one knew for sure and no one was going to ask. He was muscular and intimidating, and only really interacted with high-schoolers when giving presentations about saying no to drugs and not being criminals.

“Chief Basilio, please!” Inigo immediately recognized the red-haired woman as Gerome’s mother. “There has to be something else you can do! Can’t you get a search party together? Or drag the river, or something?”

“Miss, I think you watch too many police movies. As a department, we really just aren’t equipped to handle a large-scale manhunt like that.”

“Then what ARE you doing?” Cherche snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Basilio continued walking forward, trying to shuffle her out of the lobby, but she stood her ground.

“We’ve cordoned off the area and have two officers investigating the scene. They haven’t found anything yet, but I promise that they will keep searching.”

“That’s not good enough! My son-“

Basilio held up a hand. “How about this. In the morning, I’ll call the state trooper office and see what they can do, okay?”

“Call them right now!” Cherche glared at him. “I waited all day for you to find something, and for what? The least you can do is contact a more competent office.”

Basilio gritted his teeth and checked the clock. “The state patrol office is probably closed by now.” He saw Cherche’s fiery glare and held up his hands. “But I’ll give it a shot. Just wait out here, please.” He shuffled back into his office.

Cherche sat down at an open chair across from Lucina and Inigo in an angry huff.

“Hello, Miss Cherche,” Inigo said weakly, waving and giving a cheerful smile.

Her expression was sour, but lightened when she saw a familiar face. “Inigo? What are you doing here?”

“Oh…” Inigo shrugged and smiled guiltily. “We were checking out the reservoir, but Luci here passed out and we got caught.”

Cherche nodded contemplatively before getting up and crossing to sit next to them on the bench. “Did you find anything? Please tell me you found something.”

“I’m not sure,” he said again. He relayed the information that he had given Lucina, to which Cherche responded with anxious nods.

“I knew there was something. Why didn’t the officers investigate the footprints more?” she growled. “I have some more questions for our esteemed chief, it seems.”

The front door of the station swung open and in strode Chrom. Lucina leapt to her feet. “Dad!”

“Lucina, what happened?” he rushed to her side. “They said you passed out?”

Lucina threw her arms around him. “I’m okay now. I think it was just overexertion.” She took a step back. “Inigo and I biked down to the reservoir and were hiking around a bit. I’m okay though. I promise.”

Chrom frowned. “What were you doing down there? It’s dangerous, particularly at night.”

“I know, I know. It was still light out when we went there.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“We were…” she looked at Inigo, who smiled.

“I found a cool fishing spot along the river that I wanted to show Lucina,” he lied quickly and smoothly.

Chrom nodded and stoked his chin. “Fishing, huh? I didn’t know you were into that.”

Lucina’s heart froze. He was going to know it was a lie. She had no interest in fishing at all. It had been a valiant effort by Inigo, but –

“You shoulda told me!” Chrom said, beaming. “Freddy and I go fishing all the time. We can bring you along next time! I think I have a spare rod somewhere in the garage.” He continued rambling about his fishing exploits as he led Lucina out of the station. She turned before exiting and mouthed “thank you” to Inigo. He winked.

 

-

 

Severa lay in bed, an off-white plastic phone tucked under her chin. Well, perhaps not laying. The phone cord didn’t reach all the way to her pillow, so she was stuck in a sort of half-sit half-lay position, balancing the phone on the side of her head and holding her head up with her hand. Her other hand was occupied with a book – another old history book, the second she was supposed to read through. She idly thumbed through the weathered yellow pages as she listened to Noire talk.

“It’s okay, though,” Noire continued her sentence. “It didn’t end up being a big deal. What about you, though? How was your day?”

“Oh, fine,” Severa said. She rubbed a thumb over a picture in the book. It was a photocopy of an old steel engraving. “Not really much to report. Everyone pretty much talked about Gerome the whole day.”

“D-did anyone figure out what happened to him?”

Severa gave a noncommittal grunt. “I haven’t heard anything.”

“Do you t-think it was the guy I saw? The guy in the robe?”

Severa frowned. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because that wasn’t _real_ , Noire. You were just seeing things.” She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “He probably just ran away.”

“It WAS real!” Noire protested. “I wasn’t asleep or anything!”

“But you’re afraid of the dark,” Severa retorted. “I know you always see things that aren’t there at night. Had you brought a flashlight?”

“N-no,” Noire admitted.

Severa was surprised. “You made it all the way to the gas station without a light? Wasn’t that scary?”

“Uh-huh,” Noire agreed. “But mom…um…” she paused and started again. “I guess it was just hungrier than I was afraid of the dark.”

“Hm.”

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“Mm.” Severa said, sitting up straighter. She peered at her book.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Noire said quietly. “I didn’t mean to. What did I say? I promise I won’t do it again!”

“No, no,” Severa said, shaking her off. “It’s not you, it’s…” She sat all the way up and set the book in her lap. She switched the shoulder her phone rested on and flipped through her notebook.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Noire’s voice was soft and concerned.

“I just found something in this old history book.” Severa flipped forward a few pages. “It’s…” her voice trailed off as she thought. She flipped back again and grabbed her notebook. “So the book is _New England History: Connecting with the Past_. It’s got a whole bunch of little stories about local history from around here, and this section…” she tapped her pencil against the page. “There’s this little insert about local legends and stuff. It’s got bits about like…the Salem Witch Trials, and a bit about something called the ‘Dover Demon’, and like, bigfoot and stuff, but listen to this.” She traced along with her pencil eraser, underlining the words as she read.

“’First spotted around 1680, the ‘Devil Dragon’ was a popular urban legend in the then-fledgling trapping colony of Archanea. A rash of disappearances were attributed to the monster, which was described as having the head of a lizard, the segmented body of a crustacean, and at least six great black wings. Its most distinctive feature were its red eyes, which were said to pierce through even the thickest fog and darkest night’. There’s a picture of an old engraving with the monster on it. It looks a little goofy, but…hm.” Severa stuck the pencil in her mouth and chewed the eraser. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“There’s a ‘suggested reading’ section if you’re interested in learning more, but it looks like the ink is too faded to read.”

“Why would you want to learn more? Isn’t your project about town history? That sounds fake.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Severa shut the book. It sounded like a car was pulling into the driveway. “I’m probably just overthinking things anyway.”

“N-no!” Noire overcorrected her comments. “I’m sure you’re right! It’s probably…um…w-whatever you’re thinking!”

Severa laughed. “It’s okay, Noire. You don’t have to agree. You’re right – it’s just some dumb story.” She tossed the book across the room, where it landed on the desk with a solid _thwump_. “It sounds like dad’s back with Lucina. I should probably go see what’s up with her. You gonna be okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Noire said sadly. She always got like this when it was time for their phone calls to end.

“You’re coming to school tomorrow, right?”

“I t-think so.”

“Good,” Severa stood up and made her way back to the phone’s base. “Have a good night, okay?”

“Y-yeah. Um…” Noire paused. “I l-love you, Severa.”

“Mmhm,” Severa nodded and hung up. She sighed.

When she arrived downstairs, their mother was already smothering Lucina with concerned affection.

“I was so worried about you! I thought something had happened!” Cordelia wrapped her arms tightly around Lucina, who gurgled in her ironclad grip.

“I’m okay, I promise! It’s fine!”

“She says it was overexertion,” Chrom said. “She was hiking with a friend of hers and passed out.”

Severa stood at the foot of the stairs and frowned. She rested a hand on the bannister. _Passing out? Again?_

“I’m okay, mom. Really.” Lucina pried herself free from her mother.

Severa rolled her eyes. It’s not like her mom ever gave _her_ that much attention. Or her dad, for that matter. Luci was the star student, the social butterfly, the- Severa forcibly stopped her brain from going on. She wasn’t mad at Lucina. Jealous? Perhaps. Maybe _she_ should just try passing out and see how it worked out. She frowned.

“Something wrong, Severa?” Cordelia noticed her standing in silence at the foot of the stairs.

“You okay, Luci?” she asked, ignoring her mother.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Lucina said. “For the last time, I’m fine! I just…I just want to go to bed. Jeez.” She brushed past Severa and started climbing the stairs. She stopped at the top. “Have you showered yet, Sevvy? I think I need to wash off.”

Severa nodded. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

Lucina had been in the shower for going on half an hour by the time Severa knocked on the door.

“You okay, Luci?”

A mumble slipped through the door, barely audible over the running water.

“Mind if I come in?”

Another mumble. Severa opened the door slowly and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She sat on the toilet and stared at the opaque shower curtain. Like so many things Lucina picked out, it was floral print. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Lucina said. Her voice sounded weak and strained. “Just tired.”

From the way the voice echoed, it sounded like she was sitting on the floor of the tub. Severa sighed and tapped impatiently on the sink. “L-listen, Luci…Morgan said you passed out yesterday, too.”

The only sound that reverberated through the bathroom was the sound of water streaming from the showerhead. It was hot water, evidently. Hot enough to steam the bathroom up like a sauna and coat the mirror in a film of condensation. Severa drew a frowny face then swiped it away.

“Yeah,” Lucina said.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s been a weird couple of days.”

“Yeah, you said it.” Severa nodded. “How was Inigo doing? I know he and Gerome were pretty close.”

“He said they were dating.”

Severa raised her eyebrows. That was actually a surprise to her. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I dunno. Didn’t you…like…have a thing for Inigo? You don’t wanna be a rebound after something like this. That’s even worse than a regular rebound.”

She could hear Lucina snicker. She smiled, glad her snarky sarcasm could at least do something. The water shut off and the bathroom was enveloped in silence.

“Oh, shit,” Lucina swore. “Hey, can you grab my towel? I think I forgot to hang it up this morning. It’s on my bed.”

 

-

 

Severa lay in bed, again unable to sleep. Her head hurt, even two ibuprofens later. She reached across her bed and undid the latch on the window. She slid it up and closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. It was another beautiful night, the air just enough to make her feel a little better. She was worried about too many things – Noire, Lucina, this stupid history project… she rolled onto her back. She was meeting with Morgan again tomorrow, again at the county library. They had each allegedly finished skimming through two books apiece – at least a loose enough read to know if they’d be useful for the project. Severa was confident that both of her books would at least count for something.

She tugged the covers down, the stifling heat of the bedsheets giving way to another cool wafting breeze.

She rolled over again, her neck stiff. She frowned. It was still dark, and she wasn’t a light sleeper by any stretch of the imagination. She peered at the clock and tried to make out the hands in the darkness. It was almost three in the morning. She felt cold.

The window was stuck. She grunted and smacked it lightly, trying to loosen it. “Stupid,” she mumbled softly, hoping not to wake Lucina. She smacked it again. It wiggled a little bit.

She finally dislodged it and slid it shut. As the glass panel lowered, she looked through it and spied a shadow in the back yard. No, not a shadow. A figure. She stared in stunned terror.

It was a tall figure, dressed in a robe. Its hood was up, obscuring its face. Even so, it seemed to be staring straight at her. It was standing upright in the middle of the yard, its head tilted upwards.

She trembled in fear, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the intruder. “L-Luci,” she said, recognizing the shakiness in her own voice. “Luci, wake up.” She tried to walk a fine line between being loud enough to wake her sister but soft enough to not alert anything to her presence.

The figure lifted an arm. Its hand was obscured in shadow, oversized sleeves showing nothing but a black void in which presumably resided the hands.

“Luci!” Severa rolled backwards, falling out of bed and landing on the floor with a thump. She scrambled to her feet and twisted across the room, frantically grabbing her sister’s shoulders. “Luci, wake up! Luci!” she hissed, feeling her eyes tearing up.

“Mm?” Lucina mumbled and smacked her lips.

“You idiot, wake up!” Severa begged her, shaking with renewed fervor.

“Wha…?” Lucina opened her eyes slowly, then quickly jolted awake as Severa shook her. “What? What’s happening?!” she gasped.

“T-there’s someone in the backyard!” Severa said, pointing towards the window.

“Ah!” Lucina muttered, clutching her eye. “Gimme a sec, I’ll check it out.” With one hand still clasped over her eye, she stumbled blearily across the room. She opened both eyes and looked out at the backyard. She blinked sleepily.

“There’s no one there.”

“N-no!” Severa protested. She leaned forward and slid up the window before pressing her face against the screen. “They were right there! I saw them!”

Lucina yawned and slowly trudged back to her bed. “You just had a nightmare, Sevvy. Go back to sleep.”

Severa stared at the empty backyard, still just a square of manicured grass in the moonlight. _Was it just a dream?_

She slid the window closed and dropped the blinds, plunging the room into total darkness. She tugged her covers over her head and curled into a tight ball. She clutched her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. _Just a dream,_ she told herself. _Just a dream. There was no one there_.

The night felt like an eternity, and by the time she finally began to doze off, the first drips of sunrise had already begun to slip through the blinds.


	7. Sept 7th, 11:42 AM

In no small part thanks to the efforts of Cherche, Basilio managed to mobilize the police station quickly. They had ended up calling in backup after all – it wasn’t just Ylisse, it seemed. The neighboring town of Plegia was also dealing with a missing persons case, and the investigator had hit a dead end as well. Between both town’s requests to the county government, there was little choice but to send state troopers out to each town to assist with the searches.

Major Flavia was perhaps the only sort of person who could match Chief Basilio in terms of intimidation or size. She, too, had served in the army, and had outranked Basilio then, too. To say that he was annoyed to have his investigation be taken over by someone like her was the understatement of the century. Theirs was a friendly rivalry, but Basilio couldn’t help but butt heads with her as the investigation moved forward.

The state troopers investigated the scene of the disappearance. It had, to the distress of Cherche, been designated an official crime scene. The disappearance of the local Plegian boy had set the state troopers on edge – unlike Gerome, he had vanished with bits left behind. Still little concrete evidence, but enough blood to all but confirm that he had died. If he wasn’t dead, he was close to it and wouldn’t last long.

With that weight pressing down on her, Major Flavia had little patience for Basilio’s friendly competitiveness.

Her team of forensic investigators dug up little more than his officers did, though. Like Inigo, they found the boot prints on the door – the prints matched a size ten, which unfortunately was both Gerome’s shoe size and a common size for everyone else. The prints were from someone not too large or not to small – which, unfortunately, didn’t narrow the investigation down at all.

The footprints leading away from the car matched, trailing off into the woods and becoming obscured in a mess of bushes and felled branches. They headed away from the reservoir, up into the mountains, but became undetectable just a few yards from the roadside.

Flavia had called in a K-9 unit to search the foothills of the mountains and called up a local search party. Despite the children’s insistence that they join in, Lucina and Severa had been expressly forbidden from participating. In their stead, Chrom and Cordelia both took time off from work to help look.

Even despite their parents’ commands, the two sisters both skipped school to join in. It had been three days since Gerome had vanished by the time Lucina and Severa found themselves hiking up the foothills of the mountains, sweeping back and forth across the forest floor.

“Shit, I’m stuck again,” Severa swore. Lucina rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to get stuck on every single thornbush we pass through?”

“No,” Severa growled, trying to free herself. The thorns embedded themselves in her blue jeans, not cutting through the fabric but making them prickly to wear. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” Every step was a pinprick of pain on her legs. “Ow. Ow.”

“God, Severa! Just shut up!” Lucina groaned. She looked up. “Oh, shit, it’s dad. Get down.” They crouched down behind a low row of bushes.

It was early in the morning still, and the light passed through the trees in shafts of glowing yellow. Motes of dust and fluttering leaves filled the air as the search parties made their way through the woods, ascending higher into the foothills. Severa sat down heavily in the dirt and began retying her boots.

“I feel like those don’t stay tied very well.”

Severa grunted and pulled a knot tightly. Lucina joined her, sitting on the ground and unscrewing the cap of her disposable water bottle. She took a swig and passed it to Severa. They had been hiking all morning, alternating between sweeping the woods and trying to hide from their parents. Chrom was paired with Frederick, and Cordelia was paired up with Cherche. Her can-do attitude was quite the boon to the distraught mother, and even though Severa found her mother’s attitude infuriating, she was glad that Cordelia kept Cherche in high spirits.

“What do you think?” A low voice cut through the woods up ahead of them.

“I don’t know, Frederick. It just doesn’t seem like there’s anything to find.”

Frederick grunted in reply. “If I’m being honest, sir-“

Chrom laughed. “We’re not at work, Fred. You don’t have to call me ‘sir’.”

Frederick cleared his through. “It feels improper to address you so casually. At any rate, if I’m being honest, I can’t say I have much faith.”

“Oh?” Chrom approached him, balancing on a heavy branch he had picked up to use as a walking stick.

“Our search party is forty strong and we have yet to find any clues at all. Yesterday our numbers were double. It will only get harder as our group lessens and time passes. I fear that if we were going to find him, we would have already.”

Chrom let out a heavy sigh. “I know.” He set his hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “I have to say I agree. I know Cherche isn’t ready to give up, though. So I can’t either.”

Frederick nodded and grunted in assent.

Lucina stared at the plastic cap in her hand. 

A figure loomed over her, casting a shadow.

“M-mom!” she cried out, leaping to her feet. Severa got up with her, immediately on the defensive.

“Hello, Lucina. Severa.” Cordelia nodded at each of them.

“I…um…I can explain-“ Lucina stammered. “We-“

“I know,” Cordelia said. She sighed. “I know that we forbade you from skipping school for this. I remember what I said. But…he was your friend. If you would rather devote your time to this than your studies, I understand.”

Cherche emerged from the bushes behind her, shaking loose some dirt from her shoes. “Hello, Lucina,” she smiled. “Feeling better? You were looking pretty sick the other night.”

Lucina nodded. “I am, thank you.”

Cherche suddenly threw her arms around Lucina. “Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Thank you for helping.” She moved to hug Severa, who took a step back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Cherche nodded. “Thank you as well, Severa.”

The rest of the day fared poorly as well. As the sun crept across the sky so did the clouds, blanketing the hills in a wreath of grey. By the time droplets of rain began to splash against the hillside, the girls were sore, tired, and all but ready to give up.

“Want a ride?” Chrom asked cheekily. He was infuriatingly chipper and seemed entirely unfazed by the day’s hiking. Severa groaned and flopped herself down into the backseat of his car.

“Dad, are you even tired at all?!”

Chrom shrugged. “You’re the ones who skipped school for this. You could have spent the day sitting at a desk.”

Lucina sat down in the passenger seat and slumped against the dashboard. Rain pelted the windshield, filling the car with a soft pattering sound.

“You have to buckle up, back there,” Chrom said, turning to poke Severa’s side. The jab got an immediate response and she jerked upright, ready to defend herself. She groaned and buckled herself in

“Isn’t mom coming with us?” Lucina asked when Chrom started the engine.

“She’s going back to Cherche’s house to spend time with her.”

Lucina leaned against the window and stared out at the woods, watching as the rain accumulated in puddles and swept away what little chance of finding clues they had. Tomorrow, the foothills would be a swamp. She closed her eyes.

“Oh, shit!” Severa swore. “Morgan!”

“Hey! Language, young lady!” Chrom chided her.

“Sorry. Crap! Uh, dad, can you drop me off at the library? I told Morgan we’d get some work done on our project tonight!”

 

-

 

Severa held her jacket up above her head as a makeshift umbrella as she dashed from the car to the library entrance. It was a cool building, if you were into that sort of thing – a beautiful Greek Revival building with imposing white pillars out front. Like most of the older sections of town, it was still the original foundations – while parts had been renovated over the years, it was primarily the original structure. A gold plaque out front marked its construction date as 1890.

She pushed through the revolving door and looked guiltily at the black-haired receptionist, who eyed her muddy boots and dripping jacket with disdain.

“Do you have a coat rack?” Severa asked.

The receptionist frowned and pointed across from her desk to a mostly-empty coat closet. Severa took a moment to knock the mud from her boots.

The interior of the library matched the elegant exterior. It was three floors, the first consisting of a rectangle of bookcases. In the center was a study area with clustered together wooden tables. Each subsequent floor was composed of raised arcades of walkways on all four sides, meaning even at the highest level you could look down and see the study area. Each floor was divided into sections – fiction on the first floor, non-fiction on the second, and reference material on the third floor. The basement was where the library housed the backlog of town newspapers on microfilm, a collection that stretched back into the 1700s. It was connected underground to the town archives next door. All in all, it was an impressive complex to people who _weren’t_ Severa. She couldn’t give less of a damn about how elegant it was. She was mostly just annoyed at having to hike up three sets of stairs just to reach the reference section – _after_ she spent the day hiking already!

Morgan was nowhere to be found. Severa groaned and leaned against the railing, looking out over the library. Her head of white hair should stick out like a beacon, and yet. Nothing.

“Morgan,” she whispered, hoping her voice would carry. She tried again, louder this time. “ _Morgan!_ ”

Nothing. She grumbled and began to search through the stacks. It was like a maze of wood and paper, and she felt like she was having even less success than she had been searching for Gerome. _All I’ve done today is look for people!_ She poked her head down an aisle and frowned. The next aisle was empty too. As was the next. Her mood steadily worsened.

She leaned out in front of a row of books and almost collided with the librarian.

“Woah! Excuse you!” Severa snapped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” the librarian said. Her voice was soft and accented in a way Severa couldn’t quite place. Not exactly an English accent, but in the ballpark. Her hair was light green, tied up in a high ponytail that draped past her red sweater and light pink shawl.

The librarian stared at her curiously. “You’ve been walking around frantically for some time now. Is there something I could perhaps assist you with?”

“Uh, yeah,” Severa rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Have you seen a girl around here? Shorter than me, white hair?”

“Ah, you must mean Miss Morgan. She’s on the second floor.”

“Oh, you met her?”

“I did. I noticed she was reading a book about New England military history, and I directed her to a very nice book in the non-fiction section that I thought told a more accurate picture of events.”

“Thanks so much!” Severa said, leaping past the librarian.

“Please don’t run,” she called softly behind Severa as she leapt down the stairs.

True to the librarian’s words, she found Morgan sitting on the floor between two bookshelves, nose-deep in a dense military history book. Her open backpack lay on the ground next to her. She was squinting at the tiny print, huffing.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Severa said, bending over her. “What’s that?”

“Hm? Oh, Tiki pointed this out to me.”

“Tiki? The librarian?”

Morgan nodded and got to her feet. “Yeah, she was actually super helpful. I hate to admit it, but Ms. Miriel was right. Look at this!” She pulled her notebook out of her backpack and thrust it into Severa’s hand. It was a list of titles and authors. “She said all of those are good resources.”

“Jeez, she must really dig all this town history crap.”

Morgan laughed. “I guess, but don’t let her catch you calling it crap.”

“Even if it is?”

“ _Especially_ if it is.”

The two made their way back down to the study area on the bottom floor and spread out their various textbooks, notebooks, and hastily scribbled notes. They each shared their findings and compiled a loose timeline of events for the founding of Ylisse – or rather, the founding of Archanea and it’s eventual transformation into the town they knew today.

Archanea had been ‘discovered’, initially, by a man named Anri – a fur trapper from Europe who crossed the sea and settled along a creek nestled in the New England mountains. At the time, it was uncharted territory and largely unknown to Europeans. Anri built a homestead, then a farm, and then from there he began to attract more townspeople. The winters were hard and harsh, but before long the town grew into a trading post. Archanea was the name given to it when the town hall was constructed – even that name loosely linked back to the first settler, Anri.

This was in the early 1600s. By the next century, Archanea had formed into a fully-fledged town that earned its own little dot on the map.

The next major development in its history was the shift of political power. As the town grew, the people needed leadership. Contrary to Severa’s information, Marth was not the first mayor, nor the founder. He was the son of Cornelius, who had been the first democratically elected mayor. Cornelius did very little during his rule, though. Marth was the real mover and shaker, and under his leadership the town attracted more and more attention, expanding beyond the little creek and soon stretching out to the foothills of the mountains. It even reached up into the mountains, and a slow but reliable flow of precious metals and jewels began to trickle down into the town.

Severa flipped open her book and began pointing out passages to Morgan. As she did, a notecard fluttered out from between the pages and dropped to the floor.

“What’s that?” Morgan asked. Severa leaned over and picked it up. It was a single piece of white cardstock on which she had written “Devil Dragon”.

“Oh, it’s just some dumb urban legend thing. It’s nothing.” She crumpled the card up.

“Hey, wait! That sounds cool!” Morgan snatched the crumpled paper out of her hand and smoothed it out on the desk. “This is all so boring – it’s just a bunch of names and places and stuff. Maybe we can liven our presentation up with stuff like this. You know, add flavor.”

“Didn’t you read a book about military history? Aren’t battles exciting?”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Severa, you might not know this, but history is _all_ boring. Even big battles sound boring when it’s just this general and that battlefield and those casualties. Jiol this, Camus that. It’s _boring!_ This sounds cool, though. A monster!”

Severa sighed. “It’s not like I even know anything about it. Look.” She flipped the book to the passage and pointed it out.

“’Rash of disappearances’, huh?” Morgan pursed her lips. “Okay, maybe that wouldn’t be in the best taste.”

“Besides, there’s no way to figure out more information. The suggested reading section is too faded.”

“We could ask Miss Tiki,” Morgan suggested. The two girls looked at each other. It sounded more interesting than going over the rote details of history, at any rate.

 

-

 

Tiki frowned at them. “Girls, I think that might be a little bit beyond the scope of your project, don’t you?”

“We just wanted to add some…flavor!” Severa said, remembering how Morgan had phrased it. “Little interesting snippets to make it more relatable. Like…all these boring history people are people just like you or me.”

Tiki chuckled, sliding a book back onto the shelf. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” She picked another book off her cart and slid it into another empty slot on the shelf. “How about this.” She turned to the two eager girls. “If you two come to me with a finished product of some sort – an outline, a presentation breakdown, something like that…I’ll see what I can dig up for you about this urban legend.”

“Aww!” Severa pouted. “It’s not like you’re our teacher or anything!”

Tiki chuckled again and picked up another book. She brushed off the dust jacket and opened to the inside cover. She traced the dark ink with a long finger. “I am a librarian. I would consider myself a teacher above all other descriptors.” She smiled. “At any rate, I can’t say I know much offhand. If you give me some time, I’m sure I can come up with something to spice up your little project.”

Severa and Morgan looked at each other and nodded with determination.

They spent the rest of their night putting together an outline for their project, through the term “outline” was rather generous. They knew they had three major points to hit – Anri and the discovery of Archanea, Marth and his expansion into the surrounding land, then the transformation of Archanea into Ylisse. Unfortunately, that information had been Morgan’s responsibility, and she had only read one of the books she had taken on.

“Sorry! Marc kept bothering me to play his Nintendo with him,” she said, as if that made it better.

“Ugh, you blew it off to play your dumb games?!” Severa glared at her. “We could have this outline wrapped up!”

“Sorry!”

“I didn’t know he had a Nintendo,” Severa said, still frowning. She began paging through another book. “Is it fun?”

“Oh my god, it’s _so_ fun,” Morgan said excitedly.

 

-

 

“Hey,” Lucina said softly into the receiver.

“Lucina? What’s up?” the voice at the other end was Inigo. “Why weren’t you in school today?”

She stretched out, glad that her bed was closer to the phone and she could actually relax. “I was helping out my dad with some stuff for the city council,” she lied. “Can you tell me what assignments I missed?”

“Your dad let you skip for that?”

Lucina yawned and covered her mouth, hoping the slight noise wouldn’t carry through the receiver. She was exhausted from the day of arduous work, glad to be back in bed but frustrated that the day had yielded no results.

The rain pounded on the rooftop above her, and occasional bursts of wind sent droplets splashing against the windowpane.

“Yeah,” she said simply.

Inigo was quiet. “Lucina…”

“Hm?”

“You were looking for him, weren’t you?”

Lucina frowned. She was that transparent, it seemed. “Y-yeah,” she said. “I just…I couldn’t stand sitting there at school, doing nothing.” She could hear Inigo’s measured, deliberate breathing on the other end of the line.

“I know.”

“Did you talk to your mom about letting you help look?”

Inigo scoffed. “I tried, but of course she didn’t let me. After she picked me up from the police station, she said I wasn’t allowed to even hang out with Owain after school. She said I can go to school and come home, and that’s it.”

“It’s because she cares about you, Inigo. She just doesn’t want anything to happen to you.” _Like what happened to your dad_ , she thought, figuring it was an addition better left unsaid. Olivia was a timid woman, and everyone knew she tended to be overprotective of her son. Something like this, happening so close to home, must have really been hard on her.

“Yeah, well…” Inigo let out a callous laugh. “Not enough to let me look for him, I guess.”

“She loves you,” Lucina said.

“Yeah, and I loved him,” he retorted. “It’s bullshit and you know it. I should have been there for him, Lucina.” His voice cracked. “I…I should have gone with him that night.” He sniffed.

Lucina felt her heart sink. “No, Inigo. Don’t say that.”

He sniffed again and Lucina heard him wipe his nose. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Lucina cried, trying to stop him from hanging up. “Inigo, wait.”

The line was silent. Then, at last.

“What?” his voice was hoarse, that particular brand of strained where it’s painfully obvious how close the tears are.

“I…I’m here for you, Inigo. Whatever you need. I promise.”

He said nothing for some time, the only sound carrying across the line an occasional sniffle. “Tell me it’ll be okay, Lucina,” he said softly.

“It’ll be okay.”

“Tell me he’s still alive.”

“He’s still alive. It’ll be okay.”

“Promise me. Promise me he’s still out there.”

Lucina hesitated. The line shut off with a click.


	8. Sept 12th, 7:46 AM

The rain continued, washing out the foothills and flooding into the river. The water level rose, reaching up to the dirt ridge which ringed the reservoir, the very same ridge Lucina and Inigo had stood on just a few days prior. The search in the mountains was all but abandoned. As predicted, the forest became a mire of mud and muck, and any clues that remained were washed into the reservoir with all the other underbrush. Gerome’s car was towed to the town impound lot, where it was still being held as evidence for an investigation. Cherche was welcome to claim it, but claiming it meant that it was no longer evidence. That the investigation was closed, and that, a week after he disappeared, Gerome was considered gone.

And so the car sat in the impound lot, rain puddling around its tires. Someone had put the top up, at least.

The morning that the rain stopped was the same morning that the second disappearance was noticed. It was another student, this time a younger boy from the middle school. Neither Lucina or Severa knew him, but it didn’t prevent his disappearance from casting a sour funk across the entire school.

Like Gerome’s, this boy’s disappearance had almost no leads to go on. Even less than Gerome’s, actually. The only evidence that he was gone at all was his umbrella, which was dropped in the rain. It had floated down the stream of water pouring along the town streets, eventually coming to a rest against a mailbox. His father reported that he had not seen him since the morning before.

He was in class for the day, but after beginning his trek home, he wasn’t seen again. Somewhere between the middle school and his home on the border between Ylisse proper and Southtown, he vanished into thin air.

His father had reported the disappearance immediately, though Major Flavia specifically requested radio silence – no mention in the newspaper, no press statement from the police. Between Ylisse and Plegia, four people were now considered missing. Broadcasting this to the town was a sure-fire way to spark a panic.

Not that it stopped the news from trickling down anyway. Frederick heard it from Basilio, and he had told Chrom, who had told Sully, a woman he worked with at town hall. Sully’s daughter, Kjelle, told her friends, and from there the news spread like wildfire. It almost made the panic worse – with no official channels distributing the news, rumors flew. Some wildly inaccurate, others not far off the mark.

With a sigh of beleaguered resignation, Major Flavia at last agreed to drag the reservoir.

And while this was happening, life went on elsewhere in the town. The rumors still circulated, but before long the lack of news meant that the short attention span of the students quickly reverted back to their usual lives of teenage mundanity.

Severa opened her locker slowly, yawning. She hadn’t been sleeping well, though she had also stopped having weird dreams. Apparently – and she fully blamed Noire for this – knowing about sleep paralysis made it more likely to happen. It sounded kinda fake, but at the same time, she saw the hooded figure not long after Noire had mentioned it to her. At any rate, the worst source of her poor sleeping was her sister, who would constantly mumble in her sleep, sit up and rub her eyes, or simply sleepwalk around the room.

Their father attributed it to those teenage hormones, and although that wasn’t a satisfactory answer, it at least made sense.

Severa set her backpack down on the ground and began to dig through her locker. It was a mess, a haphazard pile of textbooks, notebooks, and loose-leaf paper. She tugged on a worksheet. It caught in between two books and tore.

“Shit,” she held the half-sheet of paper, eyeing it with disdain. She fished out the other half.

“Hey, Noire, do you have any tape?” she asked when a shadow approached her. Even without looking she knew. Everyone else knew better than trying to talk to her in the morning.

“No,” Noire said. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Severa yawned again. She tucked the paper into her backpack and shut her locker. “You okay?”

Noire nodded.

“Did you get something to eat?”

She nodded again.

“Good,” Severa smiled. She had tried convincing her mother that a sixteen-year-old girl was growing and thus required _two_ sandwiches, but Cordelia hadn’t fallen for it. So Noire eating meant Severa, too, would get to eat.

The two walked together back towards the lobby, chatting. Severa stopped to tie her shoes, kneeling in front of a colorful red banner.

“Homecoming ‘85”, Noire read aloud.

“Mmhm,” Severa said, not really paying attention.

“Are you going to go?”

Severa shrugged, tugging a tight knot. “Not sure. If Luci goes I’ll probably just go and hang out with her.” She got to her feet. “I mean – I’m assuming you don’t want to go, right?”

Noire shook her head. “N-no,” she admitted.

“I hate all that crap,” Severa agreed. “It’s just gonna be a bunch of shitty pop music and teenagers making out. If I wanted that, I could do it on my own time.”

Noire laughed softly. Severa smiled at her.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood this morning.”

Noire nodded. “Y-yeah. I have a present for you!”

Severa raised an eyebrow. “A present?” As long as they had known each other, Noire hadn’t gotten her anything – not that Severa minded. She knew she didn’t have any money in the first place, and Severa didn’t mind spending her own allowance on Noire, either. She kicked up a fuss every time she had to pay for dinner, but she always did it anyway.

Oh…oh, shoot,” Noire said suddenly, her face morphing into a mask of despair. “Oh, no.” She frantically yanked her backpack off and unzipped it. “Oh, no! Urgh, I forgot it! Stupid!” she slammed the backpack against the ground. “Stupid!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Severa said, grasping her arm.

“Stupid Noire!” she kicked her backpack. She whipped around and snatched her arm away from Severa. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry!” Severa said, backing away. “N-Noire, calm down. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Noire shouted. “I’m so stupid!” She threw a fist at the bank of lockers next to them but before her fist connected Severa managed to tug her back. She pulled her into an embrace.

“Shh,” she whispered, making awkward eye contact with passing students over Noire’s shoulder. “Shh. It’s okay.” The other students gave them a wide berth, walking on the other side of the hall and shooting them puzzled glares. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Noire mumbled into her shoulder. “You always do so much for me, and I can’t even get this one thing right…”

Severa let go of her slowly. “It’s okay. You didn’t even need to get me anything.”

“It was a book,” Noire sniffled. “I found it in my mom’s study.”

Severa’s heart sunk. “Did you steal it?”

Noire nodded. “Y-yeah.”

“Noire, you…you can’t do that. You know what’ll happen.”

Noire wiped her nose with her ratty sleeve. “I k-know. But I wanted to get it for you.”

 “Did you forget it at home, or did you lose it somewhere?”

“I don’t remember,” Noire admitted. “I guess I can check when I get home…”

Severa sighed. She didn’t even _like_ reading. “What book was it?”

“It was about that thing you were talking about on the phone. The monster.”

Severa stared at her. “What?”

The first bell of the day rang, startling both of them.

“I’ll see if I can find it tonight!” Noire said, waving as she walked off. Severa stared, watching her vanish into the stream of students on their way to their classes. She looked down and saw Noire’s worn backpack sitting on the ground next to her. _That idiot_.

 

-

 

Lucina stared at the blackboard, dozing. Like Severa, she had been sleeping poorly. An overactive imagination led to creaking floorboards and distant voices turning into the approach of monsters and the whispers of the damned. And to make matters worse, when she did sleep it was often only nightmares that she recalled the next morning.

It was usually the same – wandering in some apocalyptic ruin, pursued by endless shadows. Always, though, the sky was dark and fiery, and above it all were the six piercing points of red. She would wake in a cold sweat with her head pulsing and her eye watering. And yet, by morning, the nightmarish visions vanished and she could only remember that she had _had_ nightmares, not the specifics of them. She yawned.

“Is my class boring you, Lucina?” the teacher asked from the front of the room.

“No, ma’am,” Lucina said, straightening up.

“Can you answer my question, then?”

Lucina stared. _Shit_. She looked frantically from her desk to the blackboard and back again. She was taking notes on math, she knew that much. Calculus, by the looks of it. _This’ll teach me to zone out in class like that_.

“Um…” she winced, picking an answer at random from her notes. “Si-“

From behind her, Inigo hissed softly. “Four A over Y.”

“Four A over Y?” Lucina asked.

Her teacher gave her a curious look. “Hm. I didn’t think you were paying attention. But yes. Now you can take the slope of the curve and…” she turned back to the blackboard and began tapping the chalk as she explained.

Lucina turned around. Inigo winked and nodded at her. She smiled and turned back around.

For all the difficulties Gerome’s disappearance had imparted on the students, it had seemed that it at least brought Lucina and Inigo closer together. They walked home after school together and often sat next to each other at lunch, laughing and talking. His mood seemingly improved – he stopped being moody about Gerome and had soon returned to his flirtatious and borderline womanizing ways. She knew it was a lie, though. From the way his eyes flickered across the lobby in the morning, half expecting his friend to come waltzing through the front doors. From the way he would linger on the phone a moment too long, after the conversation ended but before he was willing to hang up. From the way that he would touch Lucina’s arms softly, like he wanted her to understand his fear.

She sighed and leaned on her elbows, gazing ahead at the blackboard. She blinked sleepily.

As much as she was loathe to admit it, she did like Inigo. Beneath that exterior of insufferable self-satisfaction, he was kind-hearted and gentle. He was good. She liked that.

Severa’s words echoed in her mind: _You don’t wanna be a rebound after something like this_.

She dragged her eraser over her paper, her mood worsening as she thought. It wouldn’t work regardless. If Gerome was gone, she had no right to take advantage of his grief. And if he returned, he and Inigo were going to keep dating. And that’s even barring the other complication…

She frowned. _I mean, I don’t think he’d even…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the school intercom crackling to life.

“Attention students,” the disembodied voice was staticky and muffled. “Attention students,” it repeated. “We will be holding an emergency assembly in the auditorium at 2:00. Repeat, we will be holding an emergency assembly in the auditorium at 2:00. Follow your assigned class schedules until then. Your eighth period teacher will take you to the auditorium. That is all.”

Lucina rubbed her eyes. _Emergency assembly?_

The class immediately began whispering, derailing the teacher’s lesson.

“Everyone, please,” the teacher cleared her throat. “I know you’re all anxious to know more, but there are still ten minutes of class left.”

It was an excruciatingly painful ten minutes to wait. Every student hushed up, but the room was nothing but a sea of jiggling legs and tapping pencils. As soon as the bell rang they all leapt up from their seats and headed for the door.

“Remember, finish page sixty for homework!” the teacher called behind them as they flooded out into the hall.

Lucina and Inigo walked together, weaving back and forth through the stream of anxious bodies.

“What do you think it’s about?” Lucina asked. “The other missing kid, maybe?”

Inigo nodded.

“Hey,” Lucina tugged his arm. “You okay?”

He gave a weak and nervous smile. “Y-yeah.”

“Worried that it’s about him?”

Another nod.

“It’ll be okay.” Lucina smiled and took his hands in her own. “Besides, maybe it’s good news – he could be back?”

She could not have been more wrong.

Dragging the reservoir had, in fact, turned up something. More than something – it had turned up Gerome. It was uncertain whether the damage his body had sustained was due to the submersion in the reservoir or trauma from beforehand. Only an autopsy would reveal that. Cherche, distraught, agreed immediately. She wanted to know what happened to her son.

The school assembly was tense. Even before the principal concluded the announcement the student body put together what was happening. No real details were shared, for obvious reasons, but one thing was certain – Gerome was dead.

The school let out early, giving the students the last period of the day off and recommending that everyone go home. Many did, but many more stayed, and the lobby quickly became abuzz with gossiping students all reacting to the news differently. Some were hysterical, horrified that a friend had died. Others were numb to it, sitting or standing together in stunned silence. Morgan and Marc seemed oddly unaffected by the news – though to be fair, they were new students and hadn’t even known Gerome for a month.

Lucina stood outside the boy’s restroom and took a deep breath. She knocked. No response. She took another deep breath, bolstering her courage.

“Inigo?” she said softly. “I’m coming in, okay?”

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was a boys’ bathroom, alright. Stalls along one side, urinals along the other. A bank of sinks across from the door. She sighed wistfully.

A lone figure sat slumped against the far wall, trembling.

Lucina slowly crossed the bathroom and knelt by his side. She set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her, his eyes tear-stained and his cheeks wet. He sniffed. “H-he…he…” He buried his face in his arms and sobbed. Lucina sighed and sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his back.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, knowing that it was a lie. He was dead, then. That’s all there was to it.

“N-no iss n-not,” he said, his voice shaky. “He’s dead.” He hugged his knees closely to his chest. “He’s really dead.”

Lucina put her other arm around him and held him close. She had no words of comfort to offer him. She held him close as he cried.

 

-

 

The wind whistled outside, rattling branches against the windows of the library. It was dark out, even the moon hidden behind a layer of clouds. The sun had set long ago, and now the building was still and empty.

Tiki dozed lightly, leaning back in her chair. Books were splayed out before her; a spread of textbooks, short story collections, historical documents littering the table. She had even pulled out some newspapers from the archives. It had taken all evening, and now, long after the library had closed, she felt like giving up. She closed her eyes, promising herself she would just rest for a minute.

“You’re really burning the midnight oil, aren’t you?” a voice woke her. She felt a soft hand touch her shoulder then drag across the back of her neck as the figure circled around her. She looked up, her messy green bangs obscuring her vision.

“Good evening, Say’ri,” she said smiling.

“It’s practically morning, you know.” She bent down and kissed Tiki lightly on the lips. “You work too much.”

Tiki’s wife was a lithe, stocky woman, dressed head-to-toe in light shades of violet. Her blouse was tucked into a dark purple dress. In one hand she held two mugs, both emitting clouds of steam. Her black hair was long and straight and draped over her shoulders in neat lines. She gestured her free hand to the seat next to Tiki. “May I sit?”

Tiki nodded.

Say’ri set a mug in front of Tiki, who poked it curiously. “It’s tea,” she explained, taking a sip from her own steaming mug. “If you’re going to be up this late, you might as well have _something_.”

Tiki wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth flood her arms. It smelled like peppermint. She smiled again. “Thank you, dear.”

“What are you working on?” Say’ri asked, setting her mug down and poking at the papers spread out before them.

“Oh, something for two students who came in the other day.”

Say’ri picked up a sheet of paper and held it in front of her face. It was a sketch Tiki had drawn – what looked to be a crest. Six eyes in black ink, each trailing down in lines that entwined at the bottom like some sort of hellish caduceus. “That’s a little creepy.”

Tiki nodded. “I believe it’s called the grim mark. The symbol of an old religious cult.”

“Oh?” Say’ri set it down. “A cult? What sort of project are these students working on?”

Tiki took a sip from her mug. The hot liquid warmed her throat as she drank and pooled in her belly, a magnificent elixir of comfort and strength. “They were studying the founding of Ylisse and asked me a question about some urban legends they stumbled upon.”

“And it has something to do with this cult?”

“I believe so, yes. It’s an old fringe religion, practiced by a splinter colony that formed in the mountains not long after the revolution.”

“What sort of things did they believe?”

“I’ve been trying to find that out. They were scarcely acknowledged in _any_ texts, let alone reputable ones. This symbol,” she said, tapping on the paper, “is the only thing that comes up multiple times. It looks like, though, they had a link to a creature that was said to live in the mountains.”

Say’ri raised her eyebrows. “Did they worship it?”

TIki nodded. “I believe so. They believed that the highest death one could achieve was to be consumed – or, rather, to be _brought_ _into_ the monster. Consumed and made a part of.”

“Did it…eat people?”

“I’m not entirely sure. To most people, the monster was a legend – it was an explanation for when people vanished mysteriously. Likely many of the disappearances can be attributed to reasonable explanations – wild animal attacks, starvation, getting lost, and the like. But to this cult…it was like their god.” She trailed off, staring at the pages she had spread out. “It’s all so terribly familiar…” she said softly.

“Tiki?” Say’ri touched her arm. “Are you okay?” The wind rattled the windows and in the dim library, Say’ri suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

Tiki continued gazing at the papers. “Familiar…” she repeated. “Listening to those girls brought back some memory…something…dark.” She turned to look at her wife. “I…I can’t remember, Say’ri. But…this all feels so dreadfully familiar.”

“It’s okay,” Say’ri grasped her hand in her and squeezed. “I know it’s difficult. You don’t have to push yourself to remember if you can’t.”

Tiki nodded slowly. It still seemed as if she was far away, as if her eyes were gazing at things that Say’ri had no grasp of. “I’m scared, Say’ri,” she said finally. “I don’t know why. But…I can feel it. Something dark and terrible.” She held a trembling hand overtop of the paper upon which she had drawn the grim mark. “I cannot place why, but…I remember this feeling.”

The eyes stared back at her, black and menacing. The wind whistled, the trees rattled against the windows. Tiki withdrew her hand, not touching the paper. The six eyes gazed towards the vaulted ceiling, high above. Black ink blotted onto a sheet of off-white notebook paper. As Tiki stared, the ink bled. The eyes filled in, six black holes dripping down the paper.

She took another sip of her tea, but the liquid tasted cold and bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @By-the-blue I'm sorry 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. INTERMISSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Chapter! (Don't worry, this update also contains the next Real Chapter as well)

VALM, 1885

It was a dark night. The sky rumbled overhead with the sound of distant thunder and wind swept through the streets of Valm, swirling the leaves into tempests of orange and yellow and shifting the wooden signposts along main street with the creak of wood and metal. There was no soul in sight, save a single young man hurtling with reckless abandon through the empty streets. He was young, perhaps no more than seventeen years old. His green hair flopped in his face, long bangs flapping wildly as he ran. He narrowly avoided a collision with a carriage as it rounded the corner, ducking and hastily muttering an apology before continuing his frantic dash.

He soon left the town itself behind, diving into the thick woods that wrapped the little village in a wreath of foliage. The road turned from broad and sparsely paved back to dirt. He vaulted a wooden fence, leaving the narrow path behind and plunging into the woods proper. He leapt over roots and ducked under branches as he made his way down the hill.

It was a shortcut he had taken dozens – no, hundreds of times before. The route from the chapel to his home was short, perhaps fifteen minutes if he took the shortcut. Perhaps ten if he sprinted, as he was doing now.

He skidded to the bottom of the incline and stumbled forward, almost tripping and colliding with the rickety wooden fence that surrounded his family’s property. He circled the fence and pushed the gate open.

A single wooden sign rattled in the wind. _Ram Farm_.

He hurtled up the porch steps and lowered his shoulder, crashing through the ajar screen door and stumbling into the parlor.

“Grandfather!” he shouted. “Grandfather!” the urgency in his voice was apparent. Despite his attempts to hide it, the fear was as well.

“What’s all that ruckus?” a gruff voice called from somewhere deeper in the farmhouse.

“Grandfather!” he cried again. “Come quickly, please!”

A stern-looking middle-aged man emerged from the depths of the house into the parlor. Mycen was dressed casually, having changed out of his dirty work overalls and into something a little more comfortable. He brushed a hand across his red smoking vest. “Calm down, Alm. Tell me what’s happened.” He spoke calmly, his bushy grey mustache moving up and down like a caterpillar as he did.

“It’s Celica, grandfather!” Alm shouted, grabbing his grandfather’s wrist. “Come! She’s in danger!”

Mycen resisted by not budging despite Alm’s frantic yanks. “What are you saying, boy?” He frowned. “What’s happened to Celica?”

“She’s in danger!” Alm shouted again, wheezing. The sprint from the chapel had finally caught up to him.

“Calm down. Tell me slowly. What’s happened?”

“It’s Celica,” Alm repeated. “M-Mae said…” he paused, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Mae told me-“

“Mae?” Mycen narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t one of her tall-tales, is it?”

“No!” Alm shouted, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Listen! Mae told me that she and Boey were up at the Whitewings’ farm and they saw the man appear again! They said it looked like he had Celica with him!”

“What were they doing at the Whitewings’?” Mycen asked. “You know Miss Palla doesn’t approve of you romping in her paddocks.”

Alm nodded. “I k-know. They were looking for Celica though! Genny said a man visited her at the chapel and she left with him!”

“What makes you think she’s in danger, then?” Mycen asked.

“It was that man! The man in the red robes! I think Genny said his name was Jedah, but he’s-“

“Jedah?” Mycen asked. “Did you say Jedah?”

Alm nodded. “H-he’s a priest, right? From that church up in the mountains?”

Mycen furrowed his brow, thinking. “Have you told anyone of this, Alm?”

Alm shook his head. “Mae and Boey, and Genny, and Tobin. But that’s it.”

“You know Clive, yes? The constable?”

Alm nodded. “He’s Lukas’ friend.”

“Go get him. Tell him to round up a posse.”

Alm turned and leapt from the front door. “G-grandfather?” he asked. “Celica is going to be okay, right?”

 

-

 

A young girl sat in the back of a carriage. Across from her sat a large man, frail-looking despite his generous size. His back was hunched, and his skin was wrinkled and grey, the shade even verging on purple in the dim light of the metal lamp in the window. The carriage rattled along, each bump in the road shaking the chassis and causing the lamp to cast warping shadows on the two occupants. The man smiled, his grin broad and unsettling.

The girl could not have been more different. Young, beautiful by any definition. Curls of ginger hair fell around her bare shoulders. She nervously fussed with the sleeves of her white dress.

“When do you expect we shall arrive?” she asked politely.

The man smiled again. “In time, child. Patience is a virtue.”

She looked out the window into the deepening night. The carriage was surrounded on all sides by dense thickets of New England forest, the trees seeming to bend around the narrow dirt road into a tunnel of twisting wood and swirling leaves. She shivered.

“I think you made the right choice, Lady Celica,” the man continued. “Your sacrifice will not be taken lightly, nor will it be forgotten.”

“Father Jedah, may I ask…” Celicia turned back to her companion. “May I ask why you need me in particular? Does the church not have parishioners who would gladly offer aid?”

He smiled that grin that made her skin crawl. Alm had told her many times that her trusting nature would get her into trouble, and now…

The carriage struck something in the road and rattled again. No. It would be fine, Celica decided. Father Jedah was a man of the cloth. Peculiar, yes, but wasn’t Father Nomah as well? Perhaps a requirement for clergy was to be kind, but in a somewhat unsettling way.

She sighed and brushed a lock of hair from her brow. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Suddenly the cart rattled to a stop, screeching to a half with enough force that Celica was almost thrown from her seat. She caught herself, grasping the velvet fabric of the seat.

Jedah scowled. “What is it now?” he muttered. He turned and knocked on the metal panel separating the interior of the carriage from the driver’s seat. The panel slid back and a face appeared, stern and dark.

“What is it?” Jedah asked.

The driver looked tense. “It’s a man on a horse, sir. He’s blocking the road.” 

Jedah let out an angry huff. “Stay here,” he said to Celica as he opened the carriage door. He landed on the dirt road with a heavy thump and circled around to the front of the carriage to investigate for himself. Thy had stopped in the middle of the road and the wooden wheels were sunk into the dirt slightly. He growled angrily at the source of the interruption.

Perhaps a dozen paces away, parked in the road, was a man on a horse. Just as reported.

The wind howled, bending the trees around the road. Jedah felt nervous. “Who are you?” he shouted.

The man was silent. He was tall, well-dressed. A head of curly orange hair glowed like fire in Jedah’s lamplight. His face was obscured by a white masquerade mask. He was smartly dressed in a well-fitted white suit. As Jedah approached, he stood up in the stirrups and reached to his waist to draw a revolver.

Jedah stepped back, raising his hands defensively. “Ho, stranger!” he called. “There’s no need for that, now.”

“Let the girl go,” the man said. He pointed the pistol at the driver. “You, get her out of the back.”

“What girl?” Jedah bluffed. “We are simply returning to the church. It is just the two of us.”

The man sneered and lowered the gun. “Stay your tongue, worm.”

“Worm?” Jedah repeated, offended. Who was this man to call him worm? In his mask and cape, looking like a fool from some performing troupe. “I had not realized the circus was in town already. Who do you think you are, to command me so?”

The man pulled the hammer of his pistol back with a loud click. “Do not think you fool me, Grimleal.”

Jedah scowled. “Where did you hear that name?”

“It matters not.” The man pointed his pistol at the driver again. “You. Fetch the girl. I won’t ask again.”

Jedah held a hand out to the driver. “Stay. We have no cause to answer to such… _highwaymen_ ,” Jedah sneered. “Handing a defenseless girl over to a robber? Mayhap you plan to have your way with her.” He paused. “That is, if we had a girl in our carriage. Which we do not.”

The man’s lip quivered beneath his white mask. Jedah grinned. This was no man. It was a mere boy, dressed up to play the hero in some perverse fantasy. The gun was likely not even loaded.

“Now please, sir,” Jedah said politely. “If you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to up the mountain.”

As he turned, the carriage door opened and a pair of bare feet fell to the ground in a puff of dirt.

“Father Jedah?” Celica asked as she approached the front of the carriage. “Is something the matter?”

Jedah turned back to the masked rider, whose reaction was not lost on the priest.

“Celica!” the man cried out.

“I grow tired of this charade,” Jedah said wearily. He whirled around, withdrawing a long, jagged knife from the folds of his robe. He grasped Celica and pulled her in front of him, placing her in the line of fire just as he pressed the knife to her neck. “If you follow us, she dies.”

“Father!” Celica cried out in protest and began to struggle. His grip was surprisingly strong. She felt the cold pinprick of steel pushing into her skin.

“Stay still,” Jedah growled. “It’s far too late for regrets now, my dear.”

The man on the horse stared at her, frozen with fear.

“Oh?” Jedah laughed, dragging Celica back to the carriage door. “Where is that bravado now, boy?”

“I know what you are, fiend!” the man called again, his mouth twisting into a frown. Celica could tell he was afraid, his lip quivering despite his best efforts. “I know you’re responsible for the murders!”

“What?” Celica turned. “M-murders?”

Jedah hauled Celica into the back of the carriage roughly and climbed in, slamming the door behind them.

The horseman lowered his gun at the driver, his grip weak and shaky. “D-don’t move!” he commanded. “Don’t-“

The carriage’s front panel slid open and Jedah’s voice flowed forth, sardonic and mocking. “Remember, boy! If I catch even a whiff of your cowardly stink behind us, she dies!”

 

-

The town square quickly became a bustle of activity as men and women gathered up the necessary supplies to mount their expedition to find Celica. Where had once been so peaceful and quiet, occupied only by the rustling of leaves, was now a vortex of shouting voices, slamming doors, and the clopping of hooves.

Alm watched nervously as preparations were made. Clive, the constable, had rounded up what passed for the enforcers in their little hamlet. His wife, Mathilda, was leaning against the side of a building and polishing the barrel of her rifle.

“We’ve suspected this for some time,” Lukas explained calmly to Alm as the two walked into the square. “Their church is no doubt full of liars and creeps, but we had no reason to suspect any connection between them and the disappearances until now. But if they have Celica…” He ran a hand through his shock of scarlet hair.

Alm nodded. “I understand.”

The posse was small, only a handful of men – Alm recognized almost all of them. Lukas, of course, and Lukas’ lieutenants, Python and Forsyth. Clive, the constable, and his wife. And of course, his grandfather.

“Stay here, Alm,” his grandfather said sternly, his horse trotting slowly towards the young man. “We’ll take care of this, don’t you worry.”

“Grandfather!” Alm protested. “Let me come with you!”

 “It’s too dangerous,” he shook his head. Alm eyed the pistol at his belt and Mycen laughed. “Don’t worry about me, boy. We’ll be alright.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Mycen said, tightening the reins and tugging his horse to the side to join up with the others. “Stay here, Alm! You and your friends need to stay out of this!”

Alm sulked, watching the group of horsemen ride off, down main street and into the night, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust and dried leaves.

 

-

 

Celica made no attempt to hide her fear. She hugged herself tightly, glaring at the man across from her in the carriage. He seemed excited, which made her all the more upset.

“What do you want me for?” she asked, putting on a brave face. “Where are you taking me?”

“You will see,” Jedah said simply. “In time, you will see.”

“Why me?”

Jedah laughed. “Do you really not know? Not know of the blood that flows through your veins?” He turned to look out the window. “Then perhaps it would be best to leave it as a surprise.”

“You are responsible, then,” she said. “For the murders. It was you.”

Jedah smiled.

“I defended you!” Celica cried, aghast. “Everyone whispered about you and your church, blamed you for the disappearances, but I defended you!” She quivered, refusing to cry. “I s-said it couldn’t have been you!”

“Your naivete makes it all the more precious,” Jedah said. “You know nothing, little girl. Not of your heritage, your blood. Not of the plans of my lord. You see nothing but a pinhole of light in a darkened room.”

The carriage rumbled along, still ascending, ever higher into the mountains.

“You’re a monster.”

Jedah grinned his wicked grin. “Perhaps.”

 

 

 

 


	10. Sept 18th , 7:45 AM

A hush had fallen over the town of Ylisse. It was not just the discovery of a body, the death of one of their own children. It was the ever-present threat of more to come. The investigation into the second disappearance had, thus far, yielded no results whatsoever. No one said it, but it was a thought churning behind the eyes of each and every person who walked the streets.

Who would be next?

Who would vanish in the dead of night? Or fail to arrive at school in the morning, or fail to make it home for dinner? Major Flavia left the town to meet up with another state trooper in Plegia, where they would put their investigations together and – hopefully – secure federal involvement. For the time being, though, the town remained on the edge of a knife. Shops closed even earlier, parents walked with their children to school, and fewer and fewer pedestrians could be seen wandering the streets late at night.

And for those closest to the victim, it was a time of mourning, and a time of recovery from the shock.

Lucina fussed with her shirt collar, trying to loosen the button at her throat. It felt constricting, like it was choking her. She frowned. A dress would have been more appealing than a suit, but she didn’t have anything that was appropriate for a funeral. As it was, her jacket was a hand-me-down from her father than had to be taken in in a few places. At least her dress pants still fit.

“Wearing a tie?” Severa asked, pushing open the door to their bedroom. She was dressed in a plain black dress and was struggling to pull a slightly-too-small jacket over her exposed shoulders. It was obvious that neither of them were prepared to be wearing formal attire so soon. Lucina had wanted to buy a dress for homecoming, but beyond that she really didn’t own – or have a desire to own – formal clothes. In fact, she tried to avoid black in general, making the hunt for funeral attire that much more difficult.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Ah, god dammit! This stupid shirt is so uncomfortable!” She gave up on fixing the collar and laid back down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Here, let me fix it,” Severa said. She tugged Lucina up into a sitting position and sat next to her. “I know it sucks to be wearing a suit, but it’s just for one day.”

Lucina grumbled. Severa only owned the one dress, meaning sharing was out, even if they were similar sizes.

“So tie, yes or no?” Severa asked. She looked at the desk, where two ties borrowed from Chrom rested in small heaps of fabric.

“I guess.”

“Okay, hold on.” Severa weighed the two choices and opted for the simpler of the two – plain black and thin. She wrapped it around Lucina’s neck and pulled it tight.

“I can do it myself,” Lucina said, pushing her back. “I don’t need your help.”

“Jeez, sorry,” Severa said, throwing her hands up and backing away. She moved to her side of the room and began fixing her hair.

It had been like this for the past week. Since hearing the news, they had been tense, even with each other. Severa was getting into arguments more often, meaning just about every evening the house became a battleground between her and Cordelia. Lucina tried to avoid it as best she could, and as a result spent a lot of time in her room, alone. She was thankful that her tape player was loud enough to drown out the shouted words and slamming doors from downstairs.

Lucina went through the motions of tying the black fabric around her neck. Around, across, and then…she frowned at the loop, which wasn’t the right size. She tried again. It had been a long time.

They had been given two days off of school, so the funeral was coming at the tail end of a four day weekend. She hadn’t seen Inigo at all, and each time she tried calling she only reached Olivia. She was worried about him.

Well, as worried as she was about _everyone_. She bit her lip and tried tying her tie again. She had seen a few of them – she met Nah for coffee one morning, and saw Morgan when she came to drop off some papers for Severa. But other than that, the funeral would be the first time seeing everyone together in the same place. She thought about the last time she had seen Gerome – it was just after the fire drill. Whatever mischief he and Inigo and Owain were up to, it had been the last glimpse of him that she’d seen. Right before her…episode.

Again, the tie came up short. She scowled. Third time’s the charm.

Her nightmares had become more frequent, no doubt amplified by stress. She suspected Severa was having them too, based on the muffled sounds she could hear from across the room late at night. Her dreams weren’t becoming any clearer – each time she would wake in the darkness, drenched in sweat, chest heaving, but no memory of what inflicted such animalistic fear into her.

At least her eye wasn’t giving her much trouble anymore, despite it all.

“Here,” Severa said at last, crossing the room. She fixed Lucina’s tie and tightened it, patting her chest as she finished. “There you go.”

“Thanks. And…sorry,” Lucina said sheepishly.

Severa shrugged.

The car ride to the church was awkward, the vehicle shrouded in the hushed silence of private mourning. Lucina leaned against the window, staring at the slowly passing houses and trees. It was a warm morning, bright and sunny. She smiled wryly. Gerome loved rain. He would have hated the irony.

It wasn’t their first funeral, though Lucina was far too young to remember Aunt Emmeryn’s. She only even vaguely remembered the woman herself, her only real recollections being strong feelings of warmth and kindness. Emmeryn had been a quiet and tender woman. She remembered how upset her father had been – how distant and withdrawn he had become, absorbing himself in his work in an attempt to come to terms with his grief.

Severa had been only three then, and she was barely able to talk. She had started crying during the eulogy for Emmeryn – not out of grief, but simply out of infantile distress. Lucina had used it as an opportunity to duck out of the back of the church and sit with their mother. That had been a sunny day, too.

“Are you alright?” Cordelia asked, turning around in the passenger’s seat. She had reached a hand back and rested it on Lucina’s knee.

“Yeah. Thanks, mom.”

Severa was silent, staring dead ahead at the seatback in front of her.

“Severa,” Cordelia turned to her. When she got no response, she again set her hand on Severa’s knee. “Are you okay?”

Severa nodded. “Y-yeah,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, but Lucina spied a tear slipping out. She slipped Severa’s hand into her own and squeezed it. Severa nodded again and breathed in and out slowly.

The church parking lot was almost full by the time they arrived. Lucina was first out of the car. “I’ll meet up with you guys later,” she said quickly before taking off. She made a beeline through the parking lot.

Cordelia got out of the car and opened the door for Severa, who sat still.

“Severa?”

Severa took a deep breath before opening her eyes again. She climbed out of the car slowly. “Mom, I…”

“It’s okay,” Cordelia wrapped her arms around her and Severa buried her face into her shoulder.

Lucina trekked through the parking lot quickly, sidling between parked vehicles and dodging formally-dressed attendees. She knew what she was looking for.

Olivia didn’t actually own a car, so she made do by carpooling with Chief Basilio, whom she was close friends with. And with her, as expected, was her son.

“Inigo!” Lucina dashed across the road, almost getting plowed into by a small hatchback as she did.

He turned to look at her. “Luci-?”

She arrived at his side. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I tried calling a whole lot, but I never got through. Your mom always answered. Hello, Ms. Olivia,” she said, turning to address the pink-haired performer. She was, as always, dressed in a gorgeous fashion, an elegant black dress draped over her slender form. Inigo was dressed pretty sharply as well, donning a fitted suit. He brushed back his hair and shrugged.

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t really in the mood for talking.”

Olivia turned to Inigo and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can sit with her, if you want.”

The two walked into the church together. It was an old building, allegedly built far enough back in history that the foundation was Revolution-era. Most of it had remained unchanged by the tides of time, and now its brick walls were quickly filling with somber friends and family of the deceased.

They shuffled into a pew where Severa was sitting. She was wiping her nose as Lucina sat next to her.

“This is stupid,” she said. Whether it was at the concept of funerals as a whole, the unfairness of Gerome’s death, or her dripping nose was anyone’s guess. Lucina simply shrugged in agreement.

“Hey,” another voice came from behind them, accompanied by tapping fingers. “You guys doing okay?” It was Marc, his short white hair finally tamed for the formal occasion. Morgan sat next to him, and next to her was their father. It was the first time Lucina had gotten a good look at the man. Robin, she thought she remembered Marc telling her.

He smiled at her softly. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said simply.

Next shuffled in Owain, who sat next to Inigo. He seemed pretty openly distraught, his eyes rimmed with red and his hand clasping a bunch of wadded up tissues. Lucina watched as Inigo comforted him. The rest of the lunch table shuffled in as time wore on, including Nah and her mother, who was a blonde woman with a youthful face. Lucina peered around the church. She even spotted Cynthia.

“Hey,” she turned to Severa. “Is Noire coming?”

Severa shook her head. “No. She didn’t even know him.”

“She’s not coming…uh…you know, to support you?”

Severa shrugged and blew her nose. “It doesn’t matter.”

The hushed voices gave way to the slow and somber rituals of the funeral. It was closed-casket, which was to be expected. Cherche gave a tearful eulogy before returning to her seat, where Cordelia comforted her. Inigo had planned on giving one as well but gave up, breaking into soft sobs before even getting the chance. Lucina put an arm around him and rubbed his shoulder.

 

-

 

Noire picked at the hem of her shirtsleeves, fingers scrabbling at loose threads as she tried to draw up as much courage as she could muster. She knocked softly on the door. There was no response. She knocked a second time, slightly louder.

“Mom?” she asked quietly.

“Come in,” came the sharp reply. Noire opened the door slowly.

Her mother’s study took up the third bedroom of their double-wide mobile home. It was a room she was seldom allowed into, despite the fact that her mother practically lived there. Entering always felt like trespassing, even when, like now, she had been explicitly given permission.

“I expect I can trust you not to steal anything this time,” Tharja said, looking up from her work. Her desk was piled with books and Noire tried to surreptitiously peer at the cleared workspace to see what she was doing.

“Of course, mom,” Noire said. She walked farther into the room, her socks padding her footsteps. “Um…”

“What?” Tharja said crossly. She glared.

“Um…the…um…” Noire fidgeted with her sleeves and stared at her feet.

“Are you speaking to me or the carpet?”

Noire stood up straight, making an earnest-if-futile effort to look her mother in the face. She took a breath. “The funeral is today, and I was hoping…um…” She felt her gaze instinctively dropping back to the floor.

“You were hoping what? I’m very busy, Noire. If you’re just here to waste my time, you’re doing a very good job of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Noire mumbled.

“What was that? Speak up, dear.”

“I said I’m sorry,” Noire said, louder.

“Hmph.” Tharja her gaze to her desk and began sorting through papers. “Isn’t there somewhere else you can go to be annoying?”

Noire clenched her hands into fists and tried to steel herself. “Mom, the…the funeral is today, and…you see, I told Severa I would go with her, and-“

“And how do you expect to get there?”

“Well, I was h-hoping you could drive me, and-“

“Dressed like _that?_ ” Tharja furrowed her brow. “You do realize what you’re supposed to wear to a funeral, right?”

Noire swallowed. “I-I-I asked you to take me to the mall on Friday, but y-you said you were busy, and-“

“So you’re saying this is _my_ fault?”

“N-no!” Noire stammered. “No, I just…”

Tharja frowned. “I’m meeting a client at noon. You can’t go.”

“P-please!” Noire pleaded. “You can drop me off on your way! You don’t even have to pick me up. I-“

“I said no, Noire.”

Noire blinked back tears. “Mom, I…” She bowed her head. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Don’t forget to shut the door behind you,” Tharja chastised her as she exited the study. Noire trudged into the living room and slumped down onto the couch. It had been a bad week. Severa was always in a bad mood, it seemed, and now this...

_She’s gonna be mad at me for not going. I promised her I would._

Noire wiped her eyes with the frayed hem of her sleeve. _She’s gonna yell at me._

She pressed her face into her hands, fighting back a wave of anger. _Stupid Noire._ It was all her fault. She should have gotten a dress on her own. She should have just walked to the church, even though it was on the other side of town. Severa was relying on her again. And again, she was failing. _Stupid Noire!_ _Stupid!_

She felt too dizzy and weak to do anything but scold herself in her own head. She laid down on the couch and closed her eyes.

 

-

 

“You don’t think I could score some of that booze, do you?” Morgan asked, looking glumly at her plastic cup filled with water.

“Jesus, Morgan. Have some respect,” her brother chastised her.

In what seemed like a bizarre caricature of their usual cafeteria arrangements, they all sat huddled around a table in the church basement for the wake. It was a brightly lit room, the tables adorned with beautiful tablecloths and the smell of food wafting through the air.

The adults were checking on the children to – at least according to Severa – a downright irritating degree. By the third “are you doing okay? Let me know if there’s anything you need”, she was ready to snap. The grief had given way to a sort of detached emptiness for all of them.

Inigo laughed sourly. “I was wondering the same thing.”

Lucina was sitting next to him, poking at her food with disinterest. “You could probably just ask for some. It’s just wine.”

Morgan and Marc made eye contact with each other and nodded. They got up simultaneously and began to weave through the room.

“This sucks,” Severa said. The assembled crew nodded in agreement.

“We’re going to get him, though, right?” asked Owain, rocking back and forth in his chair.

“Him?” Nah asked.

“The bastard who did this!” Owain clenched one hand in a fist.

“Oh come off it, Owain!” Inigo snapped. “There’s no one to ‘get’, okay? He’s dead.”

“Under mysterious circumstances, with a perpetrator still at large?” Owain said, tapping a finger on the table. “Sounds like-“

“Sounds like nothing!” Inigo said, trying to keep himself from shouting. “It’s over. There’s nothing we can do. There isn’t some villain like on TV. There’s no monster here to defeat, okay? He’s gone. And…sure, we don’t know why, but…”

“Exactly! You have to feel it too, don’t you? The Inigo I know would never simply roll over and accept the blows of destiny!”

Lucina sat up. “What are you even proposing, Owain? It’s not like there’s anything to investigate.”

Morgan and Marc returned, satisfied to each have been granted a single small cup of wine. Marc took a sip and made a face. “Ew. Someone can have mine.” He slid it into the center of the table.

“I’m proposing,” Owain continued, “that we continue the investigation on our own! If the police have given up, then it’s up to _us_ to bring the perpetrator to justice!”

Lucina sighed. _It must just be his way with dealing with all this shit. Just let him have it._ “Okay. Yeah. What is there to look into, then?”

“Let’s look at the facts,” Owain said, reaching tentatively for the wine. “We know that children are disappearing all around the region – presumably being abducted and then killed for some strange and heinous purpose.”

For once, it wasn’t simply dramatics on Owain’s part – the police investigation agreed, though he didn’t realize it. The autopsy had turned up rather interesting results. Gerome had likely been killed prior to his body falling into the reservoir. The exact cause of death was still unknown, but there were several concerning clues – the blood had been drained from his body to a significant degree, and his front and back torso were practically shredded. The flesh had been torn by _something_ , almost like thrashing teeth. The delicate details were blurred by the reservoir. As near as the police could guess, he was killed, then exsanguinated, then his body was disposed of in the reservoir. Or perhaps he had been left in the mountains and washed into the reservoir by the rain. At any rate, foul play was absolutely suspected, though the police were keeping that knowledge under wraps for fear of panic. For fear of the same sort of vigilantism that Owain was proposing regardless.

“What makes you say that?” Inigo asked, furrowing his brow.

“No blood in the body. Gotta be for some nefarious ritual, no doubt!”

“Like cattle mutilations!” Morgan suggested. “UFOs do that!”

“Okay, so our best guess is…aliens?” Nah asked skeptically. “I’d believe a bear attack sooner than that.”

“I don’t think it was anything,” Inigo frowned. “You’re grasping at straws, Owain. Not everything has a reason behind it.” He winced, blinking away another bout of tears. “Not…not everything makes sense, okay?” he clenched his hands into fists. Lucina touched his shoulder gently.

“But in this case, it does! Something is afoot in our fair village, and I-“

“Shut up!” Inigo snapped, getting to his feet. “Listen, you idiot! Not everything has to be some evil plot or some great mystery, okay? This isn’t a movie! Sometimes, shit just happens! And you have to deal with that.”

The room had fallen silent. He gazed around at the sea of faces, his lip trembling. He swallowed hard, fighting tears. Then he shook his head and stormed out of the room.

 

-

 

Lucina found him sitting outside the church, back to the old brickwork. He was breathing heavily but not crying.

“Inigo,” she said, kneeling at his side.

“Go away.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

She glared at him and got to her feet, glowering down at him.

He looked up to face her without moving.

“Look,” she said sternly. “You don’t get a monopoly on suffering, okay? I get you’re upset. We all are. But that doesn’t give you a right to treat your friends like that.”

“Do you hear that bullshit he’s spouting?” Inigo snapped. “Don’t tell me you believe that crap!”

Lucina crossed her arms and fought off the urge to put her dress shoe into his chest. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not. This is a funeral, god dammit. You didn’t have a right to go off like that.”

“Inigo? Inigo, where are you?” a voice called from around the corner.

Lucina turned to leave. “Owain was his friend too. You don’t get to dictate how others mourn.” She passed Olivia as she walked away.

Olivia helped Inigo to his feet and wrapped her arms around him. “Come on, honey. Let’s go home,” she murmured. Inigo closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink into his mother’s embrace.


	11. Sept 18th, 7:02 PM

Noire awoke on the couch to a darkened living room. The sun had mostly set, and now the drawn curtains were framed in a glow of faded orange. She sat up and touched her stomach, which gurgled in response.

She got to her feet carefully, opening and closing her eyes to dispel the dizziness from standing up too quickly. She steadied herself on the back of the couch.

“M-mom?” she said hoarsely. “Mom?”

She fumbled in the dark, trying not to get worked up. The lamp beside the couch illuminated her immediate surroundings, casting long shadows into the corners of the room. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“Mom?” she asked again. Tharja had said she was meeting a client, but that was at noon. _How long have I been asleep?_

She knocked delicately on her mother’s office door. “Mom?”

No response, save the groaning of her empty stomach. She made her way to the kitchen, careful to light each room on her way.

The entire house was empty.

Noire hated being alone almost as much as she hated the dark. Even if her mom was in the other room, working, she felt safer. She had hoped her nap would have lasted long enough for her to return, but apparently not. She opened the fridge cautiously, almost as if she expected something to leap out from the frigid depths. She bent over, frowning.

She closed the door and looked glumly at the grocery list taped to the fridge door. _I guess she hasn’t gone shopping yet_.

She settled for two slices of toast. While she waited for the toaster to do its magic, she sat down on the floor, back to the cupboards. She would have school again tomorrow, which meant seeing Severa again.

_I hope she isn’t mad at me._

She poured herself a glass of water from the sink and set her plate down on the coffee table. As she ate her dinner she got to work on the homework she had put off all weekend. She had slept through Friday and half of Saturday, at which point she helped her mom with some chores and then watched some TV. Her mom had met a client last night, too.

Noire wasn’t an idiot, her unfinished remedial math homework notwithstanding. She wasn’t quite sure what her mother did, but she knew it was most likely illegal. She was a hard worker, practically living out of her study and meeting clients at all sorts of odd hours. She had a proclivity for chemistry, which made Noire suspect medicine was involved somewhere. She had, for a time, insisted that Noire help her with her work, but that had ended in disaster. Noire’s unsteady hands were ill-suited to delicate measurements and mixings. From that point on she had treated Noire with disdain, or outright indifference on a good day. So days would pass much like this – Tharja entrenched in her work, and Noire responsible mostly for herself.

Noire stared at her worksheet. Math was her weakest subject (well, other than English), but it was her second time taking this remedial class. This was her third time learning the material, then, so it should be easy, right? She read the problem aloud to herself.

“Besides six and one, what is one factor of six?”

She frowned. “One factor…” Factors were the parts of numbers, right? She crunched on a piece of toast and wrote ‘two’ on the sheet. One down, twenty-nine problems to go. She could do this.

She took a break partway through to get more water. She stood in the kitchen, watching the glass fill.

A creak sounded from the other room. She shut off the faucet and looked up. She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the living room. The couch was empty, the table was still adorned with her crumb-covered plate and half-finished worksheet. Hm.

She turned the faucet back on. It wasn’t the first time her mind played tricks on her. She took a deep breath. Severa said it was just in her mind, so it must be, right?

Another creak.

She slammed the faucet off and looked up again, heart thrumming. That was definitely something. She shook her head. No. No. It was just her mind. That’s what Severa said.

She returned to the couch slowly, trying to step lightly and silently. She took a nervous drink and set her glass down. Another creak sounded from the other room. From Tharja’s study? She shook her head and crossed to the television. Maybe some music would help.

She clicked the dial around. Normally she wasn’t allowed to watch television – her mom scarcely used it regardless, but she didn’t like the noise, particularly from Noire’s preferred channel. Recently it had seemed like MTV had been on a streak of only playing heavy metal, which wasn’t her favorite but preferred to the suffocating silence.

This evening, though, she lucked out – soft rock, at least for now. She sat back down on the couch and resumed her work, letting the music fill the space that had before made her so uncomfortable with its silence.

She tapped her foot as she wrote on her worksheet. Noire liked music – it helped her think and helped calm her down. She had been trying to get a Walkman for the past year after seeing Inigo’s, but her mom said it was out of the question. One was nearly two hundred dollars, and that was on top of the cost of cassette tapes. Nearly as much as a fully-fledged record player and stereo, which she _certainly_ wouldn’t allow Noire to have.

So for the time being, she had to settle for MTV. She looked up, squinting at the TV. It was back to playing heavy metal, but the sound was distorted and fuzzy. Scanlines began rippling down the screen. She frowned.

Sometimes the TV needed a good thwack to work. She smacked the flat of her palm against its side. It didn’t help, and now the screen was snowy. She sighed and began adjusting the rabbit ears. As she tilted the antennae the channel phased in and out, alternating between static and the bursts of power chords.

Suddenly the sound cut out entirely, plunging the room into silence. Noire felt her breath catch in her throat. She frantically wiggled the antennae, trying to get the sound back. She smacked the TV again.

“Come on, you stupid piece of junk!”

The picture cut out too, devolving into a pool of snowy grey static. Noire’s mind immediately leapt to the time Severa had made them watch _Poltergeist_ together. As if she didn’t hate the dark enough.

She took a deep breath and fussed with the dials some more. Her mom seldom watched TV, but if she tried and it was broken…

A sound echoed through the living room. An eerie, low growl.

Noire gulped. “H-hello?”

She listened carefully. It seemed like it was coming from the study. She crept up to the door carefully. The growl sounded louder. It was definitely coming from the study. She pressed her ear up against the door, holding her breath.

It sounded like there was something tapping on the other side of the door. Her heart froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins. She stumbled back, staring at the closed door. The tapping grew louder.

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap._ Almost like fingertips drumming on the wood.

From behind her, the TV crackled to life, white noise at full volume. She screamed.

 

-

 

“You okay, Luci?” Severa looked up from her magazine at her sister, who was slumped across her bed. Lucina mumbled in response.

“So…no?” Severa turned a page.

“Today was awful,” Lucina pushed herself up. “And now, on top of everything else, Inigo’s mad at me.”

Severa shrugged. “So?”

“I just…he’s been so upset. I feel like he needs someone right now.”

“You mean you, right?”

Lucina scowled. “Why are you being such a jerk about this? I just care about him, that’s all.”

Severa turned another page, slowly and deliberately. She looked up. “Luci, do you really think something’s going on here? Like, for real. Something actually happening.”

“I don’t know,” Lucina admitted. “It’s weird, but…maybe that’s just how it is. I don’t know.”

 “Yeah, me neither. None of us do. I think we should just keep our heads down, y’know? It’ll all just blow over.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

Severa closed her magazine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…it’s not like the police are even doing anything. And more people are disappearing. Just…what if Owain’s right?”

Severa laughed. “Really? He managed to convince you with his theatrics? UFOs? Is that the current theory?”

“No, but…” Lucina got up and crossed to her tape player to change the tape. “Something’s wrong. I know it. I know you do too, even if you feel silly admitting it.”

Severa bit her lip. She had been trying to keep it a secret as best she could. The insomnia, the nightmares. The feelings of dread, the unwillingness to walk alone at night. She didn’t feel safe. Not even in her own bed. But…she needed to be strong. She needed to be brave, for Noire most of all but for all of her friends. She was the tough one – the no-nonsense ass-kicker. If she started giving in to feelings of paranoia and fear, where would that leave everyone else? She shook her head.

“It’s just paranoia. Something like this happens, and you just can’t help but feel scared. You always think it’ll happen to someone else, y’know?”

Lucina fussed with her tape player. A warbled sound came from the small speakers. “Sevvy, did you record something over one of my tapes?”

“I don’t think so. Which one was it?”

Lucina hit play again. “ _Unknown_ Pleasures,” she said. A warped groaning sounded from the tape player.

“Huh? I thought this is just what Joy Division sounds like.”

Lucina threw the cassette case at her. “I’m being serious! Did you mess up my tape?”

Suddenly their bickering was cut short by a low growling. They both stared at the player.

The growl continued, a deep and unsettling groaning that set their teeth on edge. They both recognized the sound immediately. It was the sound that haunted their restless dreams, the backdrop to the nightmares that had plagued them both privately. Lucina smacked the power button.

 

-

 

Noire scrambled towards the TV and shut it off, trying to fight off panicked tears. In the silence that followed, she could hear it. Voices from the walls.

No, not from the walls. From outside. She walked to the front window and pulled up the curtain just an inch, just enough to peer out into the front yard. The gravel street in front of their home was empty. The entire trailer park seemed shrouded in still silence.

She closed the curtain and returned to the safe, warm light of the living room lamp. She held her breath and shut her eyes. “It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.” Severa had promised it wasn’t real. It was just in her mind. It couldn’t hurt her.

 

-

 

She drifted off to sleep at some point, though she couldn’t recall when. Her dreams were strange and troubled. A man stood over her, a robed man with stark white hair. He was with her mother. They both peered down at her, chatting almost inaudibly. She knew it was a dream because the man had six eyes, three curving down each cheek. She struggled, trying to move on the couch, to no avail. She knew it was futile – that was the point of sleep paralysis. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream. Couldn’t will herself to wake.

As far as night terrors went, the six-eyed man wasn’t awful. He had shown up before, and his presence wasn’t threatening. He simply stood over her. She tried speaking, but it was like her mouth was filled with wet cement. She mumbled incoherently.

A voice responded, cutting through her haze of exhaustion.

She bolted upright, returned to the waking world by her mother, staring down at her, arms crossed under a stern glare. “Just _what_ do you think you’re doing?”

Noire rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around the room. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep…”

Tharja pointed around the room. “Every light in the house is on, you left the fridge open, you left the toaster on, the TV has been on all night, and the door to my study is open! Do you have any explanation for yourself?”

Noire blinked and tried to remember where she was. “I, um…” she looked around. True enough, the door to the study hung wide open, creaking on its hinges. The TV was airing a late-night interview with some band. And every light in the house was indeed on – the safe cocoon of brightness that she had created for herself was now seemed foolishly wasteful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Tharja scoffed. “And my study? Rooting around again, no doubt.”

“Mom, I swear I don’t know about that!” Noire sat up, accidentally knocking her glass off the table. It hit the carpet and shattered into pieces, soaking its contents into the carpet. “Oh, shoot!”

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes!” Tharja reprimanded her harshly. She pointed into the kitchen. “Go get a dustpan and get that glass cleaned up before you hurt yourself.”

Noire did as she was told, hurrying to clean up the shards of glass. As she dumped the broken glass into the kitchen trash can, her mother emerged from Noire’s bedroom, something in her hand.

“Mom, what’s-“ Noire looked closer. “Wait, what are you doing with that?”

Tharja frowned. “You’ve been wasteful enough with electricity tonight. You can get this back when you’ve demonstrated that you understand that.”

“No, mom-“ Noire protested. It was her night-light, the only source of light she had in her bedroom. “Mom, please,” she pleaded. “I promise I won’t do it again. I promise. Please don’t take my light away.”

“Maybe you should have thought about this before you misbehaved.”

“Mom,” she blinked back tears. “P-please, mom, I promise I-“ she felt her frustration boiling in her stomach. Her mom had been gone all day. Not just all day, all night, too. And now, when she came back, she was yelling at Noire again. Noire clenched her teeth.

“Give it back!” Noire shouted, grasping her mother’s arm. She tried to tug the light out of her hand. “I need it! Give it back!”

Tharja hit her across her cheek with the back of her hand. Noire staggered back, realizing her mistake.

“M-mom, I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t-“

Tharja dropped the night-light to the ground and stepped on it, shattering the bulb and plastic case with a sickening crunch. “Clean that up before you go to bed,” she said, turning to walk to her own bedroom.

 

 


	12. Sept 22nd, 4:13 PM

Lucina stared at Morgan, watching her rip open a sugar packet and pour it into her glass of coke. It was the third packet she was adding.

“Should she be doing that?” she asked Marc, who shrugged.

“Oh, hey,” Marc looked up. “Severa’s here.”

Lucina looked up and smiled brightly as her sister approached their table. It was late afternoon and they were sitting at a booth at the café on main street. The past week of school had been pretty rough – no one was in the mood for schoolwork, but, as with all tragedies, life had to go on.

Severa slid into the booth heavily and set her forehead down on a plastic menu. “I swear, that girl’s gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Problems with Noire?” Lucina asked.

Severa sat up and sighed heavily. “Yeah. I mean, I guess. I don’t know. She’s still on this dumb book thing.”

“Book thing?” Marc looked up. “Oh, hey, Owain!” he waved down the next arrival to their booth.

“Yeah, it’s some book she took from her mom. I was talking to her on the phone about our dumb project, and she said she found some book or something.” Severa turned to Morgan. “You remember all that Devil Dragon crap? It’s about that.”

Owain’s eyes brightened at the mention of such a topic. “Did you say…dragon?!”

Severa waved her hand. “Calm down there, Bilbo. It’s just some dumb bullshit. Anyway, she tried taking it from her mom’s study and got in a lot of trouble for it.”

“She okay?” Lucina asked, phrasing her question carefully.

“Yeah,” Severa sighed again. “She just…she gets these ideas in her head, you know? I told her I didn’t even want the book, but…”

“Do you have it?” Morgan asked. “The book, I mean. Did you give it back?”

“Huh?” Severa frowned. “Yeah I have it. It’s…hold on.” She bent over and began fishing through her backpack. She withdrew a thick, weathered tome bound in worn leather.

Lucina whistled. “I can see why someone would be upset losing that.”

“God, look at the thing!” Owain stared in amazement.

Severa slid it to the center of the table. “It’s some really old storybook, I guess. I can’t even read it since it’s all written in that like…old English style or whatever.”

Owain immediately began paging through it, tracing his finger over the delicate lettering and faded engravings. He stared, totally transfixed by the illustrations.

Marc reached across the table and tugged a page. “Lemme see it!”

“Be careful!” Owain pulled the book back protectively. “Such crumbling wisdom must be treated with delicacy.”

Severa nodded. “Yeah, try not to damage it. I was gonna run over to Noire’s place later and drop it off myself, since she didn’t want to bring it back.”

Owain set the book down carefully, still paging through the thin, almost translucent yellow parchment. Lucina watched over his shoulder, glancing at the illustrations with detached neutrality. She frowned.

“Hold on,” she said, reaching out to stop him from turning another page. “Can I take a look at that?”

She looked at an engraving that took up half of an entire page. It was an illustration of a monster in the sky high above a small village nestled in the mountains. It was a monstrous behemoth, its form taking up almost the entirety of the sky in the illustration. It looked hauntingly familiar. The reptilian head, the great black wings, the segmented body…she felt a chill.

_It’s the monster_.

She stared at it in shock, unable to form a sentence. Even in the illustration, the six eyes adorning its head seemed to be staring at her through the pages of the book, piercing through the veil of history. It seemed to swallow her senses, dulling the chatter of her friends around the table and constricting her breath. Her eye itched and she fought the urge to scratch it.

“Luci?” Severa poked her. “You okay?”

“What…what is this?” she asked, pointing to it.

“It’s the monster,” Morgan said. “It’s the, uh…dragon thing.”

Lucina felt her heart thrumming in her chest and prayed no one at the table could detect her nervousness. He hand trembled above the book.

“Luci…?” Severa asked again.

“I’ve…I’ve seen this before.”

“What?” Everyone at the table stared at her.

“I…um…after Gerome disappeared, I started having nightmares. I don’t remember much about them, but seeing this… _thing_ …” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I probably sound crazy, don’t I?”

“Nooo,” Morgan said without a hint of reassurance in her voice.

“I believe you,” Owain said with uncharacteristic solemnness.

“You do?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen it too. In dreams, but…it was definitely this creature.”

Morgan cackled. “Oh, god, are you two for real? It’s an urban legend! Monsters don’t really exist, you dolts! Severa, you’re with me, right?”

Severa frowned. “I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me _you’ve_ seen it too!” Morgan rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to make our project more interesting! It’s not like I believed in it! God, is everyone in this town just bonkers?”

“No, but…” Severa suddenly stood up and yanked the book off the table. She stuffed it in her backpack.

“What are you doing?” Lucina got to her feet behind her.

“I…I have an idea. I need to go talk to someone about this!” Severa bolted across the café and out the door.

 

-

 

By the time Severa arrived at the library she was out of breath, doubled over and hacking her lungs up. She wasn’t used to any sort of prolonged exercise, so even the less-than-half-mile jog down main street really did her in. She bent over, pressing her hands against the brick exterior of the library and trying to catch her breath. She stumbled through the front doors and practically collapsed on the front desk.

“Is…is…” she puffed. “Is Miss…Tiki here?”

The secretary nodded, frowning. She pointed wordlessly into the stacks.

Severa managed to catch her napping on the job. She was dozing between two bookshelves, sitting on the floor with her back against a collection of fantasy novels.

“Miss Tiki!” Severa hissed.

She mumbled.

“Miss Tiki!”

“It’s..Mrs….” Tiki corrected sleepily. She opened her eyes.

“Wake up! It’s important!”

Tiki yawned and got to her feet. “Oh, hello, Miss Severa!” she said politely, her accent and fatigued mumbling making her almost incomprehensible. “What can I…” she yawned again. “What can I help you with this evening?”

“I have a book I want you to take a look at!”

That took Tiki by surprise. “ _You_ have a book for _me_? That’s certainly a surprise.”

“It’s important!” Severa shouted again.

“Please do your best to refrain from shouting,” Tiki rubbed her eyes. “This is a library, after all.” She watched Severa withdraw the thick leather book from her backpack. She pursed her lips. “Miss Severa, where did you get that book?”

“A friend of mine’s mom had it.”

Tiki nodded. “I think it’d be best we had a chat about your little history project. Can you fetch Miss Morgan while I dig up the books I found for you?”

 

-

 

Lucina stared up at the marquee of the performance theater. It was advertising the current run of shows as well as the various dance classes it offered. Admittedly, she had never been to an actual performance. She knew Inigo’s mom was considered the star dancer and a literal town treasure, but she was never much for dance. She could stomach plays, but dancing was a little to abstract for her taste.

She walked past the theater entrance and made her way to the side alley, where a set of metal stairs led up to the second floor of the building. She pressed the intercom button.

“Hello?” came the soft reply.

“Hello, Ms. Olivia. Is Inigo in?” She knew he was – he hadn’t joined them at the café, so he had likely headed straight home after school.

“Oh, hello, Lucina. Um…I think he’s in his room. I’ll go check.”

Lucina leaned back against the metal railing and waited. She sighed. Since she and Inigo had their little spat at the funeral, he had barely talked to her. He didn’t sit with them at lunch, didn’t hang out with them in the mornings…even in class, he spoke to her only when he needed to.

The intercom crackled to life. “I’m sorry. He’s not in.”

Lucina smiled. Olivia was never very good at lying. “Please? It’s very important.”

“I’m sorry, Lucina. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“It’ll just take a minute. Please? Pretty please?” Lucina knew that Olivia was a bit of a pushover, meaning whether or not she could see Inigo depended on if her overprotectiveness outweighed her desire to avoid conflict.

“I’ll tell him.”

Lucina crossed her arms and looked at the exterior of the apartment. The theater was a small two-story building, a little old but nicely upkept. She had been in Inigo’s apartment a couple times, but never for long. It was a cute place – just the right size for two people as close as Inigo and his mother. The sun was setting, drawing bright streaks of orange along the red brickwork.

The door opened slowly, just a crack. Just enough for her to spy a head of grey hair. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to. I said we need to.”

Inigo sighed and unlatched the chain from the door before stepping out onto the rickety metal landing. “What?”

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk privately?”

He gestured to the alleyway. It was vacant, the only points of interest being themselves on the stairway and two dumpsters pushed against the adjacent building. “Talk.”

“Something’s happening.”

He rolled his eyes and turned around. She grasped his shoulder. “Listen to me!” she shouted.

“No!” he said. “I’ve had it. With all of you. With….this,” he gestured vaguely. “I just want my life to go back to normal.”

“It’s not going to,” Lucina snapped. “Something is happening in this town. I know you know it.”

He faltered for a second and she capitalized on it.

“You’ve seen him too, haven’t you? The hooded man.”

He shook his head. “I have bad vision. Everyone knows that.”

“Have you been having the dreams, as well?”

He looked incredulous. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Severa, Owain, and I are all having weird dreams. About the monster with six eyes.”

He glared at her. “No, I’m not having any dreams. You sound crazy, you know that?”

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Listen to me! That day. The day Gerome disappeared. I…I saw something during the fire drill. I saw…a vision. I don’t know. But then I saw a hooded figure. The same one I saw earlier that morning when my eye was acting up.” She let go of him. “Then it happened again, at the reservoir. You were there. You saw me collapse.”

He frowned. “So?”

“So?!” she groaned. “Can’t you see that something’s happening?!”

“What, then? What’s happening?”

She froze. “I…I don’t know,” she admitted. “But _something!_ You have to at least admit it’s strange, right? The disappearances, the dreams, the hooded man?”

He scowled.

“What would it take for me to prove this to you?”

“I…don’t know,” he said, sighing. “Look…I…I just want my life to go back to normal, okay? I don’t care if something’s happening.” He leaned back against his front door. “I already lost Gerome, okay? I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“Then help us,” Lucina grasped his hand. “Help us figure out what’s going on. We can do it together. All of us.”

Inigo stared through her, his eyes distant, fixating on the metal grating at their feet. “Okay,” he said softly. “Fine.”

 

-

 

Severa, Tiki, and Morgan sat huddled around a table in the library’s atrium. It was dark out already, the sun having set while Severa was trying to get ahold of Morgan. They had their single book. Tiki, on the other hand, had compiled what looked like an annotated compendium of sources.

“So,” Severa said expectantly. “What do you have for us?”

Tiki nodded slowly, beginning to sift through her papers. “I believe our deal was that you had to come to me with an outline for your project. Have you done that?”

Severa winced sheepishly. “Um…we were kinda hoping…you could…uh…skip over that requirement.”

Tiki gave her a look of neutral displeasure, somehow more guilt-inducing than an actual scolding would be. “Girls…” she folded her hands on the table. “I asked that you do that not only for your own edification, but because understanding the information I have to show you requires a thorough understanding of the history of our fair town. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, but…you know, with the funeral and all, we hadn’t had time…” Morgan tried.

Tiki shook her head. “There is always time for learning. I will do my best to explain, but please work on your project. I think a strong understanding of your own histories is something everyone should have, but…the people of this town, in particular.”

Severa and Morgan both apologized profusely and promised to get to work on their project.

Tiki took out her first book. “Our story begins farther back than the recorded history of our country. This is a collected book of native folklore. I cannot vouch for the accuracy, as the author is a contemporary historian, but its collected writings showcase the first instances of the urban legend the two of you are studying.” She flipped a page. “This is an account from a native trader who reported seeing a mysterious beast high in the mountains – a winged lizard with ‘many eyes that glowed red, like the sunset’.”

She withdrew another book, this time with a loose-leaf paper tucked inside. She unfolded the paper, upon which she had sketched the six-eyed caduceus symbol. “This symbol first appeared in the late fifteenth century. It was found by a European hunter. It had been burned into a tree trunk, but by whom is unknown.”

She flipped open a third book to a marked page. “I found the mark again, a century later, in the texts of a scholar studying local religion variants. He had stumbled upon a splinter sect living in a commune in the mountains. They were called the Grimleal.”

Severa poked at the symbol. “Not a very inspiring name, huh.”

“The Grimleal were characterized by extremist views and some rather…unorthodox practices. Namely, human sacrifice.”

That got the girls’ attention. They both locked eyes, startled.

“They offered sacrifices to the beast that lived in the mountains. Among their rituals were self-mutilation and blood offerings.”

“Blood offerings?” Morgan asked.

Tiki nodded. “Rather than offer the whole body, they would drain the blood and offer it to the monster, whom they considered a god.” She closed the book. “Of course, those sorts of practices were harshly condemned by the more formal religious establishments, namely the nearby Puritan sects. They hunted down the Grimleal and held them on trial for witchcraft, burning many of them at the stake. The remainder who survived scattered into the mountains. And that, according to almost every source, spelled the end of the Grimleal.”

The two girls were silent, each processing the information Tiki had presented. Severa was the first to speak.

“This monster…it’s the Devil Dragon, isn’t it?”

Tiki nodded. “That’s right. At the time, many of the disappearances attributed to the Devil Dragon were subsequently blamed on the Grimleal, though their religion scattered and only the legend of the monster remained.”

“Does this have anything to do with Marth? Or Anri?” Morgan asked, trying to remember the history they had studied.

Tiki nodded. “It does. Anri, in fact, led the trials against the Grimleal. He organized a band of townsfolk to hunt them down.”

“And Marth?” Severa asked. “Did he have anything to do with it?”

“It was before his time,” Tiki said softly. “The Grimleal were all but disbanded before his father became the mayor.” She folded her hands on the desk then unfolded them. It seemed like she was uncomfortable. “Girls, you must keep in mind that this was a very small, very localized event. It sounds exciting, but the hunting of the Grimleal, their trial and their subsequent execution took less than a year. Only six or so members were tried. It wasn’t a major event in the timeline of our history.” She chuckled slightly. “In fact, it’s more easily described as a couple crazy extremists in the mountains. It was far overshadowed by later events – the war for territory with the neighboring counties, for instance.”

“It’s so crazy to think that stuff happened _here_ ,” Morgan said.

Tiki smiled. “The longer you study history, the less you are surprised by such events. Humans have been doing strange things all over the planet since the dawn of time. Why would our town be any different?” She suddenly looked serious. “Now, I believe the two of you have a book to show me?”

Severa nodded. She pushed her book across the table to Tiki, who touched it gingerly.

“May I ask where you got this book? You said a friend of yours had it?”

Severa nodded. “My friend Noire’s mom.”

“May I ask her name?”

“Uh…” Severa hesitated. “Her name is Tharja.”

Tiki pursed her lips. “This Tharja must be quite the collector if she happens to have this book.” She flipped it open to the front cover and lightly traced over the title with a long, slender finger. “This book was referenced in a few of the texts I looked at. I tried finding a copy, but neither our library nor any of the neighboring counties have a copy. In fact, the only copy I could find for sure belonged to a religion professor at Harvard, all the way over in Cambridge. I requested access, but this…” she turned a page gingerly.

“We couldn’t read it,” Morgan interjected. “It’s written in old English or something.”

Tiki nodded. “Middle English, actually. The text predates the settling of our country, though the book itself looks to be considerably newer than that. Likely it was a reproduction of an even older text.” She paged through the beginning, looking for an author’s stamp. “My best guess is that this book is no more than three hundred years old.”

_Three hundred?!_ Severa mouthed at Morgan. _God, that idiot. No wonder Noire’s mom was so angry_.

“Can you read it?” Morgan asked.

Tiki furrowed her brow. “I can, but it will take some time for me to pull out any relevant information.” She looked at Severa. “May I borrow this book?”

 

-

 

Lucina stumbled across the street, pain rippling through her skull. She collapsed against the brickwork of a ruined townhouse. The sky glowed a deep, ominous orange.

“Hello?” she called out. “Hello!?” she could feel the panic ripping through her voice, her calls practically screams.

The town was empty, a barren wasteland of charred brick and pockmarked asphalt. She made her way down the street, pressing one hand against her eye, stumbling on scattered chunks of concrete and metal.

She knew it was a nightmare. It had to be. She had awoken in her bed, as usual, but the bed was resting on the top floor of an almost entirely destroyed house. The neighborhood as a whole had been blasted to hell, fires still burning in the ruins of what had once been her friends’ homes.

It was a blessing, then, that the town was empty. Better than corpses.

She continued down main street, weaving around crashed cars and piles of rubble. The sky thundered overhead and lightning ripped through the clouds. Unlike so many of her nightmares, the sky was empty. Somehow, that made it worse.

She knew it was here somewhere. At least if it was in the sky, she would know where.

She spied a figure standing along the side of the road, facing the wall of a burnt-out hardware store. The windows had been blasted out and flames still licked at the edges of the building.

“Hello?” Lucina called, stumbling towards the being. She felt sick, like the whole world was spinning under her feet. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get a sense of balance. It was like trying to navigate a moving carousel with just one eye. All the light and sound just made it worse.

It was a hooded figure, standing motionless, facing the wall.

“Hello? Sir?” she asked cautiously.

For the first time, she could really get a look at the robes the man was wearing. They were a deep, hypnotizing violet, trimmed in a lighter purple that traced out three eye symbols on each arm. It was trimmed with gold. The hood was up, obscuring his face. “Sir?”

She touched the man’s shoulder and he turned, slowly. A voice emanated from inside the hood. Unfamiliar, sinister. Echoing.

_We know who you are, Marth_.

Lucina stumbled backwards, tripping over the curb and falling flat on her back in the street. She scrambled backwards as the figure moved closer and closer. She looked around.

There were more of them now. More hooded figures, emerging from the ruins of shops and townhouses. Each was identical, the dark robes and hoods shrouding their features and making them an army of identical shapes. They were walking towards her, slowly, but with purpose.

She scrambled to her feet. “S-stay back!” she stammered, knowing her voice wasn’t quite the source of intimidation she was banking on. “Stay away from me!”

_You can’t hide from us, Marth_.

The whispers swirled around her head, seeping into her ears and boring holes in her skull.

_Marth_.

“That’s not my name!” Lucina screamed, dropping to her knees and clamping her hands over her ears.

_You’re going to die. You’re all going to die. The Fell Dragon comes_.

Her head pounded. She opened her eyes. The crowd of hooded figures was closer now, circling around her. The one at the front stepped towards her, lifting two robed arms.

_Marth…_

The voice was almost taunting. She clenched her teeth.

It was a dream. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. The figure touched her and she screamed, staggering backwards into the crowd of hooded figures. They pushed her back into the center of the circle, where she collapsed at the foot of the first figure.

“Please,” she whimpered. “P-please don’t hurt me.” The figure knelt at her side, reaching a slow hand towards her face.

She grabbed the hand with one of her own, and with the other she yanked down the man’s hood. The hooded figures descended on her en masse, frantic hands grasping at her with sharp claws. Just for a moment, though, she spied a strangely familiar face.

She hit the ground with a thud and cried out. She scrambled to her feet, head pounding, lungs gasping for breath.

It was dark. The room was silent, the only sound the gentle tick-tick-tick of the clock. Severa was asleep in her bed, snoring softly.

Lucina gasped for breath. “Just…just a dream,” she heaved. She brushed back her sweaty bangs and wiped her forehead. “Just a dream.”


	13. Sept 25th, 5:43 AM

Lucina rubbed her eyes blearily as she walked down the stairs. Her bare feet graced the carpeted stairs unevenly, each step helping ground her in the solid existence of the world beneath her. She had gotten used to the nightmares at this point – she knew that nighttime was no longer a time for restfulness, and she didn’t expect anything less.

Not that her teachers appreciated her catching up on lost sleep in class, of course.

She yawned and paused at the foot of the stairs, listening to the hushed voices coming from the kitchen.

“ _I_ don’t know what we’re going to do!” it was a hushed, frantic voice she immediately recognized as her father’s.

“What did Chief Basilio say?” That would be Cordelia.

“He said they’re planning on mandating a curfew.”

“A curfew? Is he serious?”

“I don’t know what our other options are! He said the police just aren’t equipped for this, even with aid from the state. I guess the simplest solution is to just keep everyone inside.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

Chrom sighed, the noise carrying through the empty and silent downstairs. “I…I don’t know. Frederick is trying to organize a town hall meeting for later this week. We need everyone to know what’s going on.”

“Won’t that simply incite a panic?”

“They need to know they’re in danger!” Chrom hissed. “This is the third disappearance in just as many weeks, and now…now we know that it’s not just kidnapping. It’s m-“ he stopped, midsentence, as Lucina padded into the room.

“It’s…mornin’, honey!” he course-corrected, smiling brightly. “Sleep well?”

“Good morning,” Lucina blinked in the brightness of the kitchen. It was still dark out, but her parents were sitting around the table, empty coffee mugs in front of them. Both were already dressed for work, Chrom in his usual suit and Cordelia in a plain blouse and pencil skirt. Lucina frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Cordelia said.

Chrom glared at her. “There’s been another disappearance.”

“What?” Lucina blinked at him. “Who?”

Chrom shrugged. “Another high-schooler. A boy named Brady.”

Lucina reached a hand up to her mouth. She didn’t know him well, but she did know him. He was generally regarded as a pretty okay guy, by all accounts. “What? Are you serious?”

Chrom nodded.

Cordelia frowned. “I thought we agreed we were going to tell them both about it. Have a talk about it.”

Chrom stood up from the table and crossed to the sink to wash his coffee mug. “She asked. I don’t want to lie to her. She’s an adult, after all.”

“She is not!” Cordelia protested. “They’re still children!”

“Which means they’re in the most danger,” Chrom said simply. “You can tell Severa when she gets up. I’ll…” he closed his eyes, thinking. “I’ll talk to Frederick and Stahl about the town hall meeting and see what I can figure out. Then…then we can all talk about it tonight, okay?”

Cordelia sighed, resigned to agreement.

He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you both very much,” he said. “I’ll see you after work, okay?” And with that, he headed out the door.

“Mom?” Lucina turned to her. “Are you okay?”

Cordelia nodded. “Just…a little on edge, is all. Chief Basilio told Frederick, who told the rest of the city council about the most recent abduction. They need to come up with some plan to prevent this from happening again.”

“Is there going to be a curfew?” Lucina asked. She had only recently been granted the privilege of staying out as late as she wanted (within reason), so the idea of a strict and legally-enforced curfew was not a very pleasant one.

“I’m not sure. Your father said they already instated one in Plegia.”

“Shit.”

Cordelia shot her a disapproving look but said nothing.

 

-

 

Lucina and Severa shuffled nervously into the back of the meeting. Their father, being on the city council, had dragged them to a couple town hall meetings before, but nothing like this. Whereas before meetings were about new zoning regulations, proposed public works projects, or new game and fishing regulations, this was the first town hall meeting that felt – to two teenage girls, at least – like it was a necessary channel of communication between the town government and the people.

The hall was packed, each seat filled and the walls lined with anxious citizens, each hoping to hear words of reassurance and confidence from their respected leaders.

“You know, this building was built more than two hundred years ago,” Severa said disinterestedly.

“You learn that for your history project?”

Severa shrugged.

It was pretty much your standard municipal fare – lots of elegant hard wood, old paintings of older people on the walls, and rows and rows of hastily assembled metal chairs. It was a square room, at one end a raised platform housing the podiums of their esteemed leaders.

Chrom looked nervous, fussing with his notes and papers, adjusting his tie, and occasionally leaning to the side to whisper some words to Frederick. Frederick, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed. Whether it was his fearless personality or his stoic nature was anyone’s guess. Though, it could have also been that he had no children himself.

Lucina scanned the rest of the councilmembers. She recognized a few and had met a couple, including Sully, a stocky woman with close-cropped red hair, and Stahl, a usually-cheerful fellow in a slick green suit. He seemed visibly nervous, tapping a pencil against his notes and jiggling his feet. Another council member sat next to him – Virion, a slender man with a face of irrepressible smugness. Cordelia had some choice words for him in the past, but beyond that neither of the girls knew much about him. The council intern, Donnel, looked like he was about to melt in his over-sized dress shoes.

The entire hall was a sea of noise as people chatted with each other, excitement and apprehension spilling from everyone’s lips. Prominent townsfolk were here, as well as representatives from the school, from local businesses, and even a few other kids like Severa and Lucina.

Chrom leaned forward and tapped his microphone. Feedback bled through the speakers and he winced, leaning back.

Donnel hurried out of his seat and into the back, where he evidently fixed whatever the problem was.

Chrom tapped the mic again. “Hello? Hello. Okay, okay. Everyone calm down.”

His voice did little to quell the crowd. A few tried shouting at the council, but their voices were drowned out in the sea of noise.

“Please, everyone. We have some things to get through first. Then we will take questions at the end.”

The voices still continued. Frustrated, Frederick smacked his microphone, sending a wave of ear-splitting feedback pouring from the speakers. He let the noise continue until the crowd ceased their rabble-rousing, at which point he leaned forward and delicately adjusted the mic to stop the awful din. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Thank you, Frederick,” Chrom said, puzzled but grateful. “Now.”

He turned forward to the crowd, looking out at the sea of expectant faces, each awaiting his words with bated breath.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, the town of Ylisse is currently dealing with a crisis of sorts. In the past month, we have had three…ah…disappearances,” he looked down, consulting his notes for the proper phrasing. Delicate words were necessary here. So having Frederick speak as little as possible was ideal.

“The first of these disappearances did result in the tragic death of one of our own children.”

That got a response. The crowd activated, rabbling and shouting over each other. Lucina couldn’t even pick out words being said, but she noticed that Cherche was sitting in the back, silently looking on. Not participating in the frenzied panicking.

“Calm down, everyone,” Chrom said calmly. “Please. We need to have order.”

Frederick leaned forward, threatening to hit his mic again. The crowd quieted.

“This tragic loss is not to be taken lightly, but unfortunately we have the two other disappearances to contend with. To that end, Police Chief Basilio is hard at work in cooperation with the state troopers and assistance from the federal government. In fact, he couldn’t attend this meeting tonight because he is at another meeting with the police chief from Plegia. I do assure you that the police are doing everything in their power to facilitate the rapid return of those who are still missing.”

He took a deep breath.

“However, the motives and mechanisms of these disappearances remain a mystery. This means that, yes, there is still a risk that someone else may vanish. For now, the only victims appear to be children. And so, in order to reduce the likelihood of such events happening again, Chief Basilio has proposed that we instate a town-wide curfew. Sully, would you like to explain the curfew plans?”

Sully nodded, clearing her throat loudly.

“Since all of the victims have been children, the strongest component of the curfew would affect the under-eighteens. The proposed plan would prohibit any minors from being in public or frequenting town businesses between the hours of 7:00 PM and 7:00 AM. For the rest of the town, the curfew would extend from 11:00 PM to 6:00 AM.”

Severa gawked at Lucina. “Horseshit,” she hissed. “Seven PM?”

Lucina shrugged.

Evidently, the rest of the crowd had a similar reaction, as the uproar in this case certainly sounded more openly hostile and negative than before.

“Please, everyone. Calm down. These are the proposed measures,” Chrom said. “The purpose of _this_ meeting is to discuss these measures and decide if they are indeed the proper course. We will take questions in a minute. We just have one more thing to get through. Stahl, if you’d please.”

Stahl nodded and took a deep breath. “To bolster these curfew laws, we would also be adding additional security measures – namely, higher police presence on patrol around the town, including permanent patrols along main street and guards placed at the elementary, middle, and high schools. While this would take officers away from the investigation, Chief Basilio is confident that we will soon be receiving federal agents to assist in the recovery of the missing persons.”

“Thank you, Stahl,” Chrom said. He cleared his throat. “Now, I know you all have questions for us. I do want to remind you that this is an open discussion – we are certainly open to hearing your ideas, but I implore you to think about what we have proposed. The measures are not permanent, remember. Think about the best way in which to protect our community – our homes, our families. Now, if you’ll all form up in an orderly line behind the microphone intern Donnel set up in the middle row, we’ll certainly be willing to take your questions.”

Lucina turned to Severa while the crowd milled around, forming themselves into something kind of resembling an orderly line, but in reality was more like a blob of anxious townfolk.

“What do you think?”

“I told you,” Severa crossed her arms and tilted her nose up. “It’s horseshit. A curfew isn’t gonna help anyone.”

“Why not? Doesn’t it make more sense to keep people inside?”

Severa frowned. “Luci, do you really think this is gonna stop just because people aren’t outside at night? All this is gonna do is inconvenience people. If kids are gonna disappear, it’ll happen regardless.”

“But-“

“But nothing,” Severa closed her eyes. She tried fighting off the image creeping into her eyes. The figure in the backyard, staring up at her. The breath on the back of her neck. She shook her head. “You know that, don’t you? This won’t change anything.”

“It’s worth a shot, though,” Lucina said. “It’s as good an idea as any. Better than doing nothing.”

“Barely,” Severa scoffed.

The first at the front of the line was a tall man with long, flowing blonde hair. He spoke softly into the microphone.

“H-hello,” he said. “I just wanted to remind everyone that if you’re feeling scared or uncomfortable, you’re always welcome to come to the church for comfort and safety. We are open every day and can provide food, beds, and prayers to those in need.”

“Um…” Chrom tilted his head. “That’s not really a question, but thank you, Libra. For those of you so inclined…” he gestured. “That’s an option as well.”

Libra bowed and stepped away from the microphone. The next asker was a sturdy red-haired woman, an expression of disdain plastered on her face.

“Please state your name, then your question,” Chrom said.

“Um, yes, hello,” the woman said grumpily. “My name is Anna, proprietor of Anna’s Bistro on main street? I’m sure you all know. Oh, by the way, we have two-for-one specials on Thursdays, so if you’re looking for refreshments after this meeting, then-“

Chrom cleared his throat.

“Oh, right. Won’t instating a curfew like this wreak havoc on local businesses? Most of my customers are early-morning commuters or evening diners. This proposed curfew would cut the patronage of young people almost entirely, and would severely reduce the number of older adults who will come as well. Not to mention the reduced foot-traffic will mean reduced sales.”

Chrom sighed. “Yes, well…” He shuffled his papers nervously. “That is, unfortunately, a sacrifice that some local businesses will have to make. Stores that rely on early-morning or late-night business may have to shift their hours-“

Anna cut him off. “And change my employees’ schedules? Do you realize how much work that would take? And even so, my sales will go down!”

“Well, it’s a temporary measure until this crisis is resolved. Surely you could-“

“That café is my livelihood!” Anna shouted. “I operate at razor-thin profits as is!”

“Two dollars for a coke is razor-thin?” Sully protested.

“The overhead is unimaginable!”

“Please, please. Everyone.” Chrom tried unsuccessfully to mediate the discussion. “How about this – we lighten the curfew restrictions on main street to facilitate the continued operation of…keystone town businesses.”

Anna pouted.

“In addition, we can possibly try and…” Chrom sighed. “Offer tax breaks during the duration of the curfew.”

Anna smiled. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

“You can leave your number with Donnel and we can figure out the details in the coming week, okay? Next question.”

 

-

 

“Well…I don’t think that went awfully,” Lucina said, leaning back in her seat. They were sitting in the car, parked outside city hall, the dark night sky dotted with stars overhead.

“They hate it. They all hate it.” Chrom slumped onto the steering wheel, defeated.

“Aw,” Severa said, kicking her feet up on the center console between the front and passenger seat. “It’s not just them. I hate it too.”

Cordelia shot her a look and she shrugged.

“What? It’s not like dad doesn’t know it sucks.”

“It does suck,” Chrom agreed, turning the key in the ignition. “But it’s necessary. We have two disappearances and a murder on our hands.”

“I thought we weren’t calling it a murder,” Lucina said.

Chrom sighed. “I think we all know that it almost definitely is.” He shoved back Severa’s feet so he could shift the car into reverse. “I know it’s not a popular decision, but it’s what needs to be done. There are too many risks otherwise.”

Lucina yawned. “I think it’s a good idea, for what it’s worth.”

Severa smacked her. “Suck-up,” she muttered.

“Thank you, Luci,” Chrom said.

“Hey mom, what do you think about the curfew?” Severa said from the backseat. From the tone in her voice it was a loaded question. She knew Cordelia disagreed with the curfew and she couldn’t help but rock the boat.

Cordelia smiled. “I think your father is doing his best to do what is right for the town.”

“So you like it, or…?”

Lucina smacked her arm.

Chrom chewed his lip. “…so Luci is the only one on my side here, huh? So much for my supportive family.”

“We do support you!” Severa protested. “Just…when your ideas aren’t stupid.”

Stupid idea or not, it was unanimously decided by the city council that the curfew was the right decision. Bolstered by a strengthened police force, the town began strictly enforcing the rule. It was met with protest by many – not only shopkeepers whose businesses would be affected but also by parents who worked late or night shifts, participants in sports clubs, and all manner of night-dwelling folks.

The most vocal criticism was that the disappearances didn’t strictly happen at night – there was no evidence one way or another, but not a small portion of the meeting voiced concern that people would continue to disappear, even if it happened in the daytime.

As expected, Severa had to be dragged into obeying the curfew, kicking and screaming the whole way. Gone were the late-evening study sessions at the library, gone were the evenings of getting dinner with friends, or hanging out with Noire after school. Her life, as well as Lucina’s, became one of rote repetition. Wake, school, home, repeat. Wake, school, home, repeat. She had been brought home by a police officer once – he had picked her up outside the library, of all places, which came as more of a surprise to her parents than the fact that she came home in a police cruiser. They were honestly surprised it had taken as long as it did.

Lucina fared a bit better. She still called Inigo in the evenings when Severa wasn’t hogging the phone, but for the most part her life became quite a bit more isolated. If nothing else, she got to spend more time with her parents. Chrom was still immensely busy with his work, but resigned himself to the same curfew everyone else in town had to abide. They all became absorbed in their own lives, confined to home or work or school, focusing all their fears inwards. Their time together in the evenings was nice but felt forced, felt to Lucina less like spending family time together and more like in school, when your project group was picked for you. A group of people tolerating each other in the same space, but each privately engrossed in their own goals, their own concerns. 

 


	14. Sept. 30th, 1:58 AM

Lucina woke with a start to murmurs and whispers in the dark room across from her.

“Mm…ah…” a hushed voice gasped out lightly.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to shake the hazy vestiges of sleep from her brain.

“Here…just…okay, it’s gonna hurt a little…” That was Severa’s voice, whispering softly. “Okay, I’m gonna…”

The other voice let out a sharp gasp. “Ah…” It whimpered.

“Does that feel okay?” Severa whispered.

“Mm…” another soft whimper.

Lucina’s eyes shot open. _No. Nope. Nope. This had better not be happening right now._ She bolted upright and lunged across her bed, reaching out her hand to slap the desk lamp on.

The room lit up with a glow of soft yellow. Lucina gaped, staring wide-eyed across the room in disbelief.

Severa and Noire were sitting in bed together. Severa was pressing a cold ice-pack against the other girl’s face. Lucina could see a dark purple bruise from a black eye creeping out from under the edges of the ice-pack.

“Ah!” Noire jumped at the sudden brightness, almost falling off the bed. In the light Lucina could see the rest of her face. Dried blood was crusted in a trail from her nostrils down to her upper lip. In addition to the black eye she had a dark bruise on her cheekbone and her eyebrow was split, a slow trickle of red oozing into her eyelashes. Severa grabbed her and stopped her from falling off the bed. She glared at Lucina.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” Lucina said, raising her voice.

“Shh!” Severa hissed. “Keep it down!”

“What are you doing? What’s _she_ doing here?” Lucina said again, quietly but still verging on shouting.

Severa fumed. “I said _shut up!_ ” she whispered. “It’s complicated. Just go back to sleep.”

“How can I go back to sleep with you…” Lucina gestured wildly. “Performing first aid in my bedroom?!”

Severa shook her head angrily and turned her attention back to Noire. She took Noire’s hand and pressed it against the ice-pack, keeping it flush against her face. “Here, just hold it like that. I need to go get some peroxide for your cuts, okay?”

Noire winced at the cold pressure but nodded, sniffling.

Severa slid off the bed and stood up. She turned. “Did you get anything to eat?”

Noire shook her head.

Lucina’s head was still swimming as Severa snuck out into the hallway. She checked the clock. _Two in the morning_?!

“Noire, what happened to you?” Lucina asked softly. She was grateful their parents’ bedroom was down the hall, far enough away that their voices probably wouldn’t be heard. At least, when she and Severa stayed up late, they managed to not get caught. So this would probably be okay. Whatever _this_ was.

“Um…” Noire blinked back tears and took a breath. “Um…I…” she trailed off, staring at the carpet.

Lucina frowned. Her mind immediately leapt to the hooded man. “Did he hurt you? The man in the purple robe?”

Noire looked at her curiously. “Huh? No, he just watches. He doesn’t hurt me. Besides, Severa said he’s not real.”

“But you’ve seen him,” Lucina said, sitting forward in bed. “Right?”

Noire nodded as Severa crept back into the room. She shut the door behind herself, careful to click the latch bolt into place. The door didn’t have a lock on it, but at least there was no risk of it swinging open willy-nilly.

Severa returned to her bed and set down a brown plastic bottle and a roll of paper towels. She handed Noire a plastic Tupperware container and a fork.

“Leftovers from dinner,” she explained while she poured a generous portion of the peroxide onto a paper towel. “I couldn’t heat it up because the microwave is too loud, but it’s good.”

Noire began shoveling the food into her mouth, letting the ice-pack drop to the bed.

Severa reached out a hand and stopped her. “Hold on, let me clean you up first.” She tilted Noire’s head back and softly dabbed her wounds with the paper towel. Lucina could smell the chemical from across the room and winced as Noire recoiled from the pain.

“Shh,” Severa said quietly. “Shh, it’s okay. There we go.”

Lucina noticed that the floor next to the bed was covered in balled-up tissues in varying stages of bloodiness. Evidently, she had woken up partway through Severa’s first aid session.

“Okay, you’re all done,” Severa said. She screwed the cap back on the peroxide bottle and crossed to the dresser, where she began sifting for clothes. “Do you need a new bra, too, or just a shirt?”

“Just a shirt,” Noire said quietly though a mouthful of food.

“Good. Because you certainly wouldn’t fit into any of mine, and Luci’s still wearing training bras.” Severa stood up, a black t-shirt in balled up in her hands.

“Hey!” Lucina snapped. “You don’t need to tell her that!”

Severa laughed and Noire giggled in response. “Here,” Severa handed her the shirt.

She held it up to the light and read the letters emblazoned across the front. “ _Whitesnake?_ I didn’t know you liked that kinda music.”

Lucina suppressed a smile. “Oh, you didn’t? She went and saw them, you know. Took the train down to New York and everything. How did you describe it, Sevvy?”

Severa scowled. “I said it was a good sho-“

“She said she cried. Apparently it was the best night of her life,” Lucina taunted. Noire giggled and Severa hurled a pillow across the room, slugging Lucina in the face with a _whump_.

Severa’s face softened as she turned back to Noire. “Come on, off with it.” She helped Noire pull of her shirt. She tossed it to the floor, giving Lucina a better look at it. It was dirty and torn in places, and the collar was ringed in murky brown stains. More stains, fresher, redder, tracked down the chest and stomach. _Christ_ … Lucina shuddered.

Severa helped Noire pull on the fresh shirt and helped her tug off her pants.

It was strange, in a way. Watching Severa was like watching a different person entirely. There wasn’t a trace of the abrasive, hot-headed alpha-bitch. This Severa was calm, kind, gentle. Her touch even seemed different, her fingers dancing lightly and gently over Noire as she tended to her.

She spoke softly, her kind reassurances betraying almost maternal care. She cleaned the blood from Noire’s face, helped her change her clothes, and finally laid her down in bed, tenderly resting her head on a pillow. By the time she had finished, the bruised cheekbone and black eye were the only evidence Noire had been hurt at all.

“Severa…” Lucina said, still not entirely sure what was going on.

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” Severa said tersely, crawling into bed next to Noire. The younger girl curled up next to her into a fetal position flush against Severa’s side. Severa draped an arm over her and pulled her close.

Lucina frowned.

A murmur crossed the room, too low for Lucina to hear.

“I’ll ask,” Severa said tenderly. She turned to Lucina. “Is it okay if we leave the light on?”

“Uh…y-yeah…” Lucina said, furrowing her brow. She laid back down in bed, adjusting her pillow and wrapping the covers tightly around herself.

The lamp was dim, washing the walls in a warm yellow glow. In the corners, though, outside the light’s radius, the dark shadows flickered and wavered. Lucina watched as Severa and Noire adjusted, trying to fit comfortably on the narrow twin bed. The window was open and the screen was slightly ajar – that must have been how Noire got in.

She could hear soft murmurs from underneath Severa’s covers.

“I love you, Severa,” Noire whispered, nuzzling her face into the pillow and cuddling backwards into Severa’s embrace.

“Mmhm,” came the dispassionate response.

Lucina squeezed her eyes shut. Barring the curious circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel at least a little jealous. To have someone like that, someone she could rely on…no, not even that. To have another body with her, a comforting warmth in the cold, dark night. She was afraid. Every night she went to bed afraid of what her mind would conjure up. What she would see in her dreams, or worse – what her waking eyes would reveal in the shadowy corners of the bedroom. She was afraid of the pain, the chronic pulses of agony that struck her at random. She was afraid to walk home alone, even in the daylight.

Whatever was happening didn’t end with Gerome’s funeral. By all accounts it was getting worse. At least, if her parents’ hushed tones and her father’s ever-increasing workload was anything to go by. It was scary to see armed police officers patrolling the town.

This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen here.

Ylisse was boring. Rote. Routine. They barely registered on the map – they got a little dot in the state map, not even a bold one. This was the sort of thing that happened in big cities; or rather, movies. Official channels refused to use the words, but the phrase _serial killer_ had snuck into the common parlance of late.  

Lucina wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She wished she had someone like Noire. No, someone like Severa. Someone to hold her tight, to tell her that everything would be alright, that the pain will pass and the light will return.

Her mind wandered to Inigo, of course. She wondered what it might be like to share a bed with him. How his arms might feel around her, how his lips might feel on her neck…she rolled over, shaking her head. These weren’t the thoughts to be having. Not at a time like this. She so desperately wanted someone to comfort her, though. She felt herself dozing, the intrusiveness of the lamplight outweighed by her perpetual fatigue. And finally the arms of sleep, not a lover, wrapped themselves around her.

 

-

 

“Severa, wake up,” a voice hissed, hushed and quivering. “Severa.”

Severa blinked slowly, her eyes struggling to focus. The lamplight was almost blinding. “Mm? What? What time is it?”

Noire shook her, and even in the simple motion Severa could feel her tense urgency. “Severa, please,” her voice cracked.

“What’s happening?”

“There’s someone here,” Noire said quietly.

Severa felt her heart lurch into her throat. She rolled over and scanned the bedroom. It was empty, save the three occupants that belonged there. Or rather, two and a guest.

“I’m scared, Severa,” Noire said, grasping for her.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Severa whispered, taking her hand. “It’s okay. You’re just seeing things. Go back to sleep.”

Noire held tight, not letting her go. “Look! In the doorway!” she whispered, pleading. “Someone’s there!”

Severa sighed and looked towards the door.

“Luci!” she hissed, eyes widening. “Luci, wake up!”

A dark silhouette stood in the hallway just outside the open bedroom door.

Severa scrambled backwards in bed, pressing her back up against the far corner, tugging Noire with her. She wrapped an arm protectively around her and Noire tucked her face into Severa’s chest.

“Luci,” Severa said again, her voice shaking. “L-Luci…”

Lucina mumbled and rolled over.

Severa felt her chest heaving and her eyes watering. It was too dark to see the figure clearly – they stood just outside the edge of the light’s radius, in the shadowy penumbra of the doorframe. She clutched Noire against her tightly.

“D...Daddy?” she said, almost whimpering. The figure remained motionless. “Daddy?” she said, louder. She blinked back fearful tears.

She could feel Noire hyperventilating into her chest. She kept her eyes fixed on the shadow but moved her hands to Noire’s back, stroking her. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “It’s okay.”

She felt paralyzed, equally wanting to scream and wanting to dive back under the covers and pull them over her head. She had to stay strong. For Noire.

“Wh…” the sentence was dead in the water, her voice cracking and fading before she choked out a single word. “Who are you?” she tried again. “Wh-what do you want?”

The figure lurched in the shadow, seeming to grow behind the doorframe, slowly stepping ever closer. The lamp illuminated the edges of the figure – a dark purple robe, nearly black in the dimness. With a sinking feeling, Severa knew.

The figure in the yard.

She whimpered, gasping out a sob before clamping her lips shut. It had followed her.

The night after the library, it followed her home. Then it found her room. Now…

Lucina sat up. “Ow…” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “Severa? What time is it?” She opened her eye slowly, one hand still clamped over her bad one. She furrowed her brow, seeing her sister and Noire huddled against the far corner, whimpering. “What’s…”

Severa slowly lifted her hand and pointed behind Lucina, over her shoulder. “B-behind you,” she stammered.

Lucina’s eyes grew wide. She turned slowly around.

The lamp flickered, then shut off, plunging the room into blackness in time with the slamming shut of the door.

All three girls screamed.

 

-

 

 

Chrom thrust the door open, bursting into the room with all the heroic might he could muster. “Girls? What’s wrong?” he said, stopping the door just before it slammed into the wall. He had been awoken suddenly by screams echoing down the hall and he had sprung into action without a moment’s hesitation.

He flicked the light switch and stared in awe and confusion.

Lucina was huddled back against the corner of her side of the room, blankets clutched around her, sobbing and breathing heavily. Severa, too, was pressed back into the corner, a smaller black-haired girl crying in her arms.

Chrom frowned. “What’s happening!?”

Severa and Lucina both started shouting at once.

“Someone was here!” “He was right there!” “Dad, do something!” “It was in our room!”

“Girls, girls! Calm down!” Chrom said, trying to quiet his inconsolably hysterical daughters. “One at a time!”

Lucina gasped for breath, trying to choke out a coherent sentence. “There was someone there!”

“He was in the hallway!” Severa explained, wiping her eyes.

Cordelia entered the room behind Chrom, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Honey? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Chrom said with frustration, scanning the room.

“Who’s that?” Cordelia pointed at Noire, who was silently shuddering into Severa’s chest.

“I don’t know,” Chrom said again, his annoyance becoming apparent once he realized that nothing was happening.

Severa sniffed and took a breath. “Oh, um…dad, mom, this is…um, this is my friend, Noire.”

“What’s she doing here?” Chrom asked, frowning.

“That’s not the important thing!” Severa shouted.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Chrom shouted back. It had been a long week, and the last thing he needed was to be yelled at by his sixteen-year-old daughter at three in the goddamned morning. “Now will one of you please explain to me what all the screaming was about? Or what she is doing here?”

“It’s…” Severa faltered. “I…”

Chrom sighed. “I’m going to take her home. Noire, was it? Come on, Noire. I’ll drive you.”

Noire looked up nervously from Severa’s chest.

Severa nodded and gently nudged her off the bed. “Go on.”

Noire got to her feet unsteadily and walked across the room towards Chrom, dressed in only Severa’s Whitesnake t-shirt and a borrowed pair of underwear. She stopped to pull her dirty jeans back on, moving with deliberate calm and slowness.

“Come on, Noire,” Chrom repeated softly. “We can’t have you getting caught out after curfew.” As the two left, he turned back to the bedroom. “And you two.” He glared at Severa, then Lucina. “We’re going to have a talk about this when I get back. Think long and hard about what you’re going to say to your mother and I.”

 

-

 

Lucina brushed her bare toes against the carpet. They were sitting in the living room, enmeshed in the awkward silence of people who are obviously about to get yelled at. Cordelia had said nothing, opting to wait for their father to return before laying down the law.

Severa was angry, as expected. She had tried several times to start the conversation, each time getting shut down mid-sentence by their mother. Lucina was still reeling from the shock of it all.

She tried to replay the scene in her head. At least, what she understood of the scene. She had woken up, like she so often did, with a sharp pain in her eye. She turned around and saw…something. A hooded figure? It was so hard to tell in the murky light, but she knew it had to be true. The lamp had shut off somewhere, and the door had slammed shut. The figure seemed to have vanished in the darkness.

She sighed. She knew it was going to sound like bullshit. Their story was that someone had gotten into the house and into their room, but their father heard them scream and was immediately in the hall. He hadn’t seen anything, and there was no evidence. Only their word.

Chrom walked through the front door, shutting it heavily behind him. He took off his shoes and set them by the door, sighing. He sat down on the loveseat perpendicular to the couch his daughters were sitting on. Cordelia was already sitting down, her stern face betraying her thoughts.

“Dad, you have to believe us,” Lucina pleaded. “There was something there, I swear!”

Chrom shook his head. “It’s been a stressful time for all of us. I know neither of you have been sleeping well. I’m not surprised you think-“

“Think?” Severa snapped, sitting up angrily. “What the hell do you mean ‘think’? We saw something!”

“Language, Severa. Besides, I think your father is more upset that you had a friend over without our permission,” Cordelia said. Chrom nodded.

“How can you just brush over the fact that someone was in our house?!” Lucina asked, incredulous.

“I checked the windows and doors,” Cordelia said calmly. “Everything was still locked up tight, and neither your father nor I saw anything.”

“Girls…you know why I’m upset, right?” Chrom said before they could protest.

Lucina and Severa made eye contact and shook their heads.

 “I’m sure she’s a fine girl, but what you did was in violation of the curfew.”

Severa scowled and Chrom held up a hand. “Now, now. I know you think it’s unfair, but it’s in place to protect you and your friends. Inviting someone over at night like that puts her at risk for getting in trouble with the law. Worse, it puts her in actual danger. What if something had happened to her on her way over here?”

Severa bowed her head, resigned. “Dad, you…”

“There’s no excuse,” Chrom said. “You’re both grounded. Until the curfew lifts, neither of you are to leave the house except for school. And of course, no guests.”

Both girls immediately responded.

“Dad, that’s not fair!”

“I need to work on my history project!”

“How can you do that?!”

“Dad…” Severa said, obviously swallowing her pride. “It…it’s my fault, okay? Luci had nothing to do with it. I invited her over. I should be in trouble, not her. She didn’t even know about it.”

“Lucina?” Chrom turned to her. “Is this true?”

Lucina shrugged. “I…I woke up and Noire was already there.”

“Why are you asking _her_?” Severa growled. “I said it’s my fault!”

“Lucina wouldn’t let you lie,” Chrom said. “So, then. Severa, you’re grounded until the curfew ends. Lucina, you’re off the hook.”

 

-

 

Severa flopped down heavily in her bed.

Lucina shut the door behind her. “Talk. Now.”

“Can’t we talk about it in the morning?” Severa asked, tired of getting yelled at.

“No.” Lucina sat down on her bed, facing Severa’s side of the room. “Talk.”

Severa sighed and sat up. “I just…I don’t wanna talk about it, okay? I just want to sleep.”

Lucina waited.

“Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”

“What was Noire doing in our room?”

Severa put her face in her hands, mumbling. “She…she comes over sometimes. You’re usually a really heavy sleeper, so you’ve never noticed, but…”

Lucina stared, shocked. “ _What_? How long had this been happening?”

“I dunno,” Severa kicked her bare feet at the carpet. “A couple of months, I guess?”

“You…” Lucina leaned forward, speaking in a hushed whisper. “You never, like…did anything while I was in the room, right?”

Severa frowned. “Did anything?”

“You know, like…” Lucina gestured.

Severa rolled her eyes, clearly pissed off. “No, we didn’t fuck with you in the room. Don’t be disgusting.”

“I don’t know!” Lucina threw her hands up. “I didn’t even know she slept over until an hour ago!”

“She…she just comes over to sleep.”

“Why?”

Severa closed her eyes. “She just…she doesn’t want to stay at home sometimes.”

Lucina took a deep breath. “Can I ask why?”

“H…Her mom…” Severa trailed off. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can we just drop it? Please?”

Lucina stared at the carpet. It wasn’t like her to plead so openly. She could hear Severa’s voice cracking.

Severa took another breath. “She…” she squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s just not a good place for her, okay?”

Lucina pieced it together slowly. “Severa…” she said softly. The bruises and cuts weren’t from the hooded man after all, it seemed. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

Severa scooted back in bed, pulling her knees against her chest. “She asked me not to.”

“Severa, if something’s happening, you need to do something!” Lucina protested.

“No, I…she…” Severa stumbled on her words. “You don’t get it, okay? It’s not that simple.”

“It _is_ that simple!” Lucina said. “If her mom is hurting h-“

“Shut up!” Severa snapped. “Just shut up, okay?” She took a breath and Lucina could tell she was struggling not to cry. “I…there’s nothing I can do, alright? She told me not to tell anyone. And…and I don’t want to, either.”

“Why not?” Lucina got to her feet and crossed to Severa’s bed. “Severa, she needs help. How long has this been going on?”

Severa shrugged, frustration plain on her face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell mom and dad, at least. I’m sure they do something. Or, or they would know who to talk to, or-”

“No!” Severa hissed. “You don’t get it! There’s nothing I can do!”

“There’s always something you can do!” Lucina replied. “You can’t just sit by and let it happen!”

Severa clenched her teeth. “Shut up! You don’t understand! It’s not your problem!”

“You made it my problem as soon as you brought her into my room!”

“Why do you even care?!” Severa snapped.

“Severa, she’s fifteen years old!”

“Listen! You! You…I can’t just…I…I don’t…” she stuttered. “I…” she blinked back tears. She let slip a sob and took several moments to steady herself with deep breaths. “I don’t want to make it worse,” she said at last, quietly.

Lucina put an arm around her and she shoved her off.

“Go away,” she muttered.

“Severa…”

“No,” Severa shook her head. “Look, I know, okay? And I hate it. I hate myself for being too much of a coward to do anything about it.” She blinked and tears dripped from the corners of her eyes. “I…just…she doesn’t have anyone else, Luci. Where would she go?”

“Doesn’t she have any family? Anything?” Lucina put her arm around Severa’s shoulders and squeezed.

Severa shook her head. “No.”

“What about her dad?”

Severa shrugged.

Lucina pulled Severa into an embrace. Severa sniffed. “I don’t…” she burrowed into Lucina’s shoulder. “Her mom is all she has.”

“She has you,” Lucina said softly.

Severa nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Yeah,” she said dismissively.


	15. Oct 1st, 12:24 PM

October had come with a suddenness that seemed to startle the entire town. With all the goings-on, the last month of summer seemed to simply fall between the cracks, slipping between the sewer grates in the street like so many dried leaves. The air was chilly now. Not cold, but brisk. The leaves changed slowly, the chill in the air fading the many trees that speckled main street from green to a muted yellow. More pants, more jackets, more boots. Even the braver students forwent their shorts and skirts in favor of bundling up for the walk to and from school.

The forests around Ylisse darkened as the days grew shorter. Even the natural world seemed to be encouraging acceptance of the curfew, as the sun set behind the mountains earlier and earlier each day, bathing the town in the shadow of dusk, a visual warning of the approach of danger.

Whispers still pervaded the town. Gossip and hints trailing back and forth between loose-lipped officers and city officials to wives and husbands, to children and friends. The investigation was at a standstill. There was simply no motive, no evidence. It was as if the children simply vanished from the face of the earth.

And in that absence of official word, the eagerness of the band of teenagers huddled around the lunch table every afternoon grew greater. An eagerness for answers. For the truth.

Severa stared glumly at her lunchbox, occasionally poking it with disinterest.

“Hey,” Lucina said, dropping into the seat next to her. No mention of the incident the previous night had been made by any of them – save Chrom, who reminded Severa that she was return home immediately after school let out.

“Hey,” Severa said.

“You okay?”

Severa shrugged.

Lucina looked around, ensuring that no one was paying attention to them. “Are you okay?” she asked again. “Do you want to go eat with Noire?”

“She isn’t here today,” Severa said. She slowly opened her lunchbox and withdrew a bag of potato chips.

“Is she okay?” Lucina asked, concerned.

Severa turned to her, irritated. “Look, Lucina, I know you think you’re helping, but you’re really not, okay? Just…just forget any of that happened, alright?”

Lucina raised her eyebrows. “Okay, jeez,” she said, turning to her own food.

Nah was the next to arrive. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asked. Remarkably perceptive, as always. “You two look pissed.”

Lucina waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Sevvy got grounded last night, so she’s in a bad mood.”

Nah laughed. “Shit, grounded on top of the curfew? So what, you can go to school and back?”

Severa scowled. “Oh, here, I have something for you, Nah,” she said, withdrawing her hand from her chip bag, flashing a middle finger at Nah. Lucina and Nah both laughed.

“Hey!” Lucina said brightly, looking up. “Long time no see!”

Inigo sat down next to her, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, guys. Sorry for being such a jerk recently.”

Nah shrugged. “It’s fine. We’ve got lots of practice handling jerks,” she said, nudging Severa. Severa smacked her arm and Inigo laughed.

“I’m glad to see not much has changed here, at least.”

And he was right, in a way. Where the table had once been awkward, somber, silence, the spark of juvenile friendship slowly but surely returned. Inigo’s shameless flirting, Owain’s needless theatrics, Nah’s stoic rationality, and even Severa's dour bitchiness were all welcome returns to form. Marc and Morgan resumed their antics, arguing with each other and flinging food across the table at each other. As the days wore on, even under the bootheel of the curfew, life slowly began to take a new shape.

Even as they adjusted to the empty seat at the lunch table, Severa found herself growing increasingly bitter. Her time with Noire was limited to the lobby in the morning and sometimes their walk home. Beyond that, their schedule didn’t line up, and she sure as hell couldn’t go visit her.

Even on a good day it made her irritable. On some days, it made her nauseous with worry. She knew Lucina wanted to talk to her about it, and a part of her wanted to as well. To voice the fears she had been cramming down inside herself, packing down like dirt into an empty grave. Burying her doubts, her worries, her uncertainties.

She knew she was a coward. She certainly didn’t need her sister to tell her that. She tried not to think about it, since every time she did it made her sick to her stomach. Knowing that she could be doing something – no, that she _should_ be doing something. Anything. Anything but standing still, frozen, afraid to act for fear of doing the wrong thing.

She almost wanted to talk to her parents about it. But it was so…secondary. To everything else going on in town, to the troubles they were already facing. Something like this, so quiet and personal, took the backseat to a town-wide crisis. Or so she could tell herself.

Noire had wanted to keep it a secret, even from Severa. Her finding out was an inevitability, but even so it took months before she was certain. She had needed to confront Noire about it herself. She never confessed directly, despite the bruises, the blood, the torn clothing. The hunger, the weakness. The closest she got to admitting it was a simple nod when Severa asked her.

“Hey, Sevvy?” Morgan waved a hand in front of Severa’s eyes. “You with me? You awake?”

Severa blinked and brought herself back to reality. She was at home. In her living room, cross-legged at the coffee table, sitting across from Morgan. Books were splayed out in front of them, as was a large but empty sheet of cardstock. Ostensibly a presentation board.

“Hm? Sorry, were you saying something?”

Morgan frowned. “You okay? You look tired.”

Severa nodded. “Yeah, just…I’m gonna go get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Do you have creamer?”

Severa yawned, pouring water into the coffeemaker. She wasn’t technically allowed to use it – it was dad’s fancy coffee he brought to work every morning, but she figured this was an acceptable exception. He’s the one who trapped her here, anyway. She was perfectly fine with the shitty library coffee, but if she had to be home, then this was her right.

She looked around the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to percolate. She tapped her foot to the small radio they had set up in the living room, listening to the soft music wafting through the bottom floor of the house. Lucina was out – presumably with Inigo, but she wasn’t sure. After that night, she had been kinda scant with her own personal life.

Severa frowned. She figured she deserved it. She had lied to Lucina and went behind her back for weeks. She had betrayed her trust, not just as a roommate, but as a sister. She sighed and hit the power button on the coffeemaker. While she waited for the dripping to finish, she fished two mugs out of the cupboard and found an old container of half-and-half in the fridge. She sniffed it and shrugged.

“Thanks,” Morgan said, taking a hot mug. She wrapped her fingers around it and sniffed it suspiciously. She peered over her mug at Severa’s as she sat down. “Do you drink yours black? Doesn’t that taste awful?”

Severa shrugged, tilting the mug up to her lips. It did.

“Okay,” she set the mug down on the coffee table. “What are we doing?”

“We’re finalizing what we’re gonna put on our poster.”

Severa grumbled and paged through the books. “Are these the books Miss Tiki gave us?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah. I figured we can finalize the focal points of the project then each make up some note-cards to explain in greater detail when we actually present.”

“Okay.” Severa thumbed through a book, a thin paperback reproduction of a collection of old sixteenth-century engravings. “So. We’re doing…Anri, Marth, and the War of Heroes, right?”

“Yeah. I figured I’d take the war, ‘cause that’s the books I read, and you can take Anri, and I guess we can both do Marth? That’s the biggest section, so that should work.”

Severa nodded. “Uh…okay, so…are we not presenting anything about the urban legend stuff?”

Morgan furrowed her brow. “I assumed we weren’t going to.”

“But…” Severa tried to phrase her sentence in a way that wouldn’t make her seem batshit insane. “Um…isn’t that…related to what…some people, like Owain…think might be happening? Isn’t that why Miss Tiki is looking at that book?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why it’s not part of the project. That’s independent learning, baby.”

Severa scowled. “Ugh, that’s the fucking worst.”

Morgan laughed. “Okay, so anyway. What are we putting on the board?”

As much as Severa put up a front of cool disinterest, she was quickly coming to realize how much she was learning about the history of their small town. She was pretty solid on the early foundations of the town, the early settlers, and Anri’s original homestead. Somehow the way it was tangentially related to their current dilemma lent a sense of urgency to the learning.

Anri had been a peasant, a low-born settler who pulled himself up by his bootstraps to found the town. He had been married to a woman named Artemis, and, curiously enough, he apparently had a number of family heirlooms that still stuck around to this day. Part of Severa wanted to check out the museum downtown to see if they had any of the stuff she had been reading about. As a kid she never paid much attention to the artifacts and items in the collection, but now she would probably recognize a thing or two. She figured she would have remembered a shield inset with jewels, but a sword sounded cool too.

Maybe after the curfew lifted.

And Morgan, for her part, had a solid understanding of the War of Heroes – that was the name for the series of skirmishes the Archanean militia engaged in before the entire area was swallowed up by the union. They had fought off a number of aggressive neighbors that sought their fertile land, river access, and easy access to the mountains for mining. At least, that’s what historians claimed. The primary documentation was scarce, but Morgan made do.

That just left Marth.

Severa hummed, staring at the name. Morgan had just moved to town, so she didn’t know…unless someone else had told her. The name that had once been shared with someone else.

 

-

 

Lucina pressed her face up against the glass, peering into the darkness of the shop. Closed.

“Dammit,” she swore.

“Problem?” Inigo asked, trailing behind her at a brisk pace.

“I was hoping to pick up some stationary, but I guess that’s out. They’re closed early.”

“Well, the curfew is coming up soon,” Inigo said, gazing up at the darkening sky. “You should probably get heading home, right?”

Lucina frowned, trying not to pout. It had been a nice afternoon, all things considered. She stayed after school to help Inigo study for their upcoming math test, then the two had walked around main street a bit, poking into shops and generally enjoying themselves. They had sat on a park bench and shared a crepe they snagged from Anna’s, but now the sun was sinking behind the mountains and the street was growing chilly. A breeze swept along the road, swirling patches of dead leaves around their feet.

Lucina didn’t want to go home. She had felt comfortable for the first time in nearly a month. Since that day, the first day, when all this shit had started. She felt calm and safe. Inigo was just so…irrepressible. Even after what had happened, his cheerful demeanor and infectious smile made her feel so…

She smacked her head on a stop sign.

“Fuck!” she swore, clutching her eyebrow.

Inigo caught her before she fell into the street. “Woah, watch out!”

“Ow,” Lucina winced, drawing her hand back from her face. Blood trickled down her forehead. “Ouch.”

“Sorry about that,” Inigo apologized. “I tried to warn you, but you were zoning out!”

“It’s okay,” Lucina muttered. What a rude awakening. She wiped her forehead and brushed her bangs back. It wasn’t a deep cut but it was a long one. She winced.

Inigo dug through his backpack and fished out a pack of tissues. “It doesn’t look too bad,” he said, tilting her head back and dabbing the blood. Lucina hissed.

“Um…” Inigo blushed, stepping back slightly. “Uh…my house is just down the road, if you want to come back and get cleaned up.”

Lucina’s face tinted pink and she stumbled slightly. “Um…but what about the curfew?”

Inigo shrugged. “You could call your dad and have him pick you up. I’m sure he’d understand.”

 

-

 

Lucina sat on the couch, pressing a styptic pencil against her cut forehead and clenching her teeth. The antihemorrhagic was a blessing, sure, but god _damn_ did it sting. She was waiting patiently for Inigo to come back with some band-aids, and in the meantime sat in the nearly-empty apartment.

It was smallish, two-bedroom affair with a multilevel central room that served as kitchen, dining room, and living room. The kitchen had a counter which served as the dining table, and the living room was sunken down to the level of the entrance. The walls were brick and the floor was hardwood. It was actually a beautiful apartment, now that Lucina got a good look at it. Potted plants were tucked into the corner and a skylight above the couch let in the fading twilight.

“Where’s your mom?” Lucina called out, hoping her voice would carry.

“Huh? Oh, she’s teaching dance downstairs.” Inigo emerged from the bathroom, plastic first-aid kit in hand. “She has lessons till eight.” He skipped down the short staircase from the kitchen.

“Is it alright that I’m here?” Lucina asked, touching the crusted blood on her forehead.

“Yeah, she won’t care,” Inigo stood in front of her. “Jeez, you really did a number on your forehead. Does it hurt?”

“It stings a bit, yeah.”

Inigo wiped her forehead with a sterile wipe. “Alright, almost done.”

Lucina felt uncomfortably warm. She realized he was almost straddling her, their faces only inches apart as he pressed the band-aid against her. He held her head with one hand and pressed the other into her forehead, dabbing at her cut. She stared at his face as he did. She tried to focus, deliberately avoiding staring at his lips.

He paused, returning her curious stare. He tilted his head to the side.

 _Oh, god. I was staring. Oh, god._ Lucina’s heart hammered in her ribcage. She blinked rapidly and shifted her eyes away from him, trying to dispel the thoughts worming into her mind.

He grabbed her face and tilted it towards his, staring into her eyes.

She licked her lips. She had never been kissed, but-

“What’s in your eye?” he asked, tilting his head to the other side.

Lucina’s chest seemed to collapse, relief and disappointment mingling in her all at once. _Oh. Oh. That makes sense._

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your left eye,” he said, letting go of her chin. “It’s got like…I dunno, a mark or something.” He frowned. “It looks familiar.”

“Familiar?” Lucina scooted away from him, still trying to quell her beating heart. “What do you mean?”

“Go take a look,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom. “I need to find something real quick.”

True to his word, there did appear to be a shape in her eye. She blinked and rubbed her eye. It looked familiar to her as well, though she couldn’t imagine why he would have known that. It had appeared on that day, too.

When she emerged from the bathroom, he was rifling through a stuffed manila folder. He withdrew a sheet of temporary tattoo paper. “Here, take a look at this.”

It was the same mark. Lucina opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t figure out what words to say. “What…what is this?”

“It’s part of a costume from a play,” Inigo said, standing up and shutting the manila folder. “ _The Garden of Anri_. Not a very good play, in my opinion, but it’s one that the dance students have put on a few times. It’s a historical play about the founding of Ylisse.”

“Huh,” Lucina said, confused. That sounded like a terribly boring idea for a play.

“It’s a terribly boring idea for a play,” Inigo said. “In fact, I think it was primarily written because the author claimed direct descent from the primary character – the politician-turned folk-hero, Marth.”

“Marth?” Lucina stared at him, taken aback.

“Yeah, he was one of the first mayors of Ylisse, or something. He had a really distinct birthmark, apparently – that symbol.” Inigo tapped the paper. “It was on his arm.”

Lucina took the paper from him and stared. Her mind raced, possibilities and questions racing around her skull, threatening to split the bone and spill out onto Inigo’s carpet. The mark, the hooded man, the monster, the disappearances, Marth…She looked at him, her eyes wide and crazed.

“Lucina, are you okay?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder. “You look sick.”

She shook her head, laughing hollowly. “I feel like I’m going crazy, Inigo.”

“What do you mean?”

She slumped back down onto the couch, exhaling dramatically. “There’s just so much going on. So many bits and pieces, but I can’t seem to fit any of it together. It’s all connected, right? Am I going crazy?”

Inigo sat down next to her, shrugging.

“I just…” Lucina rubbed her temples, careful to avoid applying pressure to her cut forehead. “I wish I had one of those big corkboards. You know, like in detective movies.”

Inigo nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s just…I feel like nobody has all the answers.”

“It’s like trying to put together a puzzle, but all the pieces are…” Lucina trailed off. “Held by different people…” she finished softly. She bolted upright, turning again to face him with wild eyes. “Inigo!”

“What?” he asked.

“We need to…we just need to get everyone together. Everyone who knows all the bits and pieces about it. Severa, Morgan, Noire, Owain…” she counted off on her fingers. “Everyone knows a little bit, but none of us know what the others do! We just need to pool our information!”

“O…okay?” Inigo agreed tenuously. “At school tomorrow, then?”

Lucina shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t do…we need to…we need to meet somewhere! Somewhere where we can all talk.”

“That’s gonna be tough with the curfew,” Inigo said. He still seemed unconvinced.

“Can I borrow your phone?” Lucina stood up. “I need to call Severa.”

 

-

 

“Severa speaking,” Severa said flatly, picking up the phone. “What do you want?” She immediately winced at the sheer wall of volume that came through the other end.

“Hey! Calm down!” she shouted back into the receiver. “One sentence at a time!”

“Sorry!” Lucina shouted back. “I’m all worked up about this!”

“Yeah, jeez. I can tell.” Severa twirled the cord around her finger, pacing around the kitchen as she talked. “What’s up? Where are you right now?”

“I’m at Inigo’s,” Lucina explained. “We…we have an idea.”

“Okay, I’m listening…” Severa said. Morgan had gone home already, but both of her parents were still working. Severa hated that adults got to stay out later, but at the same time, it meant she was on her own for dinner if they were at work. She cradled the phone against the crook of her neck and she opened the freezer.

“We need to get everyone together. Can you call Morgan and Marc? Inigo and I will call Owain and Nah.”

“Okay?” Severa said, fishing a frozen pizza out of the fridge. “Why?”

“It’s about…the thing! You know! Everything that’s been happening!”

“What do you mean?”

“We just…we all just need to share everything we know. I know you and Morgan know a lot about the town, and, and…and I’m having these visions, and Owain is too. And-“

“Okay, okay. I get it,” Severa said, setting the phone down. She strained to listen to the voice coming through the line as she fiddled with the oven, setting the dials. She picked up the phone again. “Why are you so worked up? Did something happen?”

“I hit my head on a stop sign,” Lucina said.

Severa snorted. “What?”

“No, listen! Inigo was looking at my eye and he said that the mark in my eye was something he’d seen before. It was the same shape as Marth’s birthmark.”

“Birthmarth,” Severa muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Uh, so, um…you think it has something to do with all this?”

“When it first appeared in my eye, that’s when all this stuff started happening. That was the day we first saw the robed guy.”

Severa picked at the top of the frozen pizza, peeling unthawed slices of pepperoni off and popping them into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. “Mhm…” she hummed. “Okay. So you think we all just need to sit down and lay our cards on the table?”

“Yeah,” Lucina said. “Tomorrow after school.”

“Okay, well…you’ll have to catch me up, I guess. I’m on house arrest, remember?”

“It’s not house arrest,” Lucina said.

“It might as well be!”

“Okay, well…why don’t we have everyone over?”

“What, to our house?” Severa said doubtfully.

“Yeah! We can call people tonight and talk about it tomorrow at school. We can pretend it’s a…a group study session or something. We still have that frozen pizza, right?”

Severa swallowed a bite of still-frozen crust she had picked off the edge. “Uh, no, I think that’s gone.”

“Okay, well I’m sure we can figure something out for food. You don’t think mom and dad would care, right?”

“What, about inviting half a dozen teenagers over, after dad specifically told me I couldn’t invite over any guests? You remember how much arguing it took for me to have just Morgan over for our project, right?”

“Okay, well…” on the other end of the line, Lucina tapped the phone thoughtfully. “How about we just stay at school?”

Severa sighed. “Dad didn’t even let me go to the library.”

“Yeah, but if I’m with you the whole time, and he comes and picks us up, then it’s not like you’ll be unsupervised, right?”

Severa slid the frozen pizza into the oven. “I dunno, Luci. He seemed pretty strict about this.”

“Well, we can talk to him tonight, okay? We can say it’s for…”

“How about we say it’s a club?”

Lucina cleared her throat. “What? What club would both of us join?”

“I dunno. Fencing.”

“Our school doesn’t have a fencing team.”

“Dad doesn’t know that, does he?”


	16. Oct 2nd, 3:12 PM

They ended up going with the lie that they were joining Model UN. It took no effort to convince them that Lucina was joining, but neither Chrom nor Cordelia were willing to readily believe that Severa was joining such a high-minded and political club. She said she was bored being cooped up at home and just wanted to yell at people, which was accepted with some degree of shrugging.

They had contacted everyone from the lunch table and told them to reach out to other people who might know or be interested in putting the puzzle together. Owain and Inigo had provided the club space – they found themselves backstage, behind the school’s auditorium. Owain and Inigo had, in the course of their misadventures with Gerome, managed to snag two extra copies of the keys that unlocked the auditorium, so sneaking it was as simple as dodging the teachers heading out to their cars for the night.

Lucina frowned, looking at the handful of kids who showed up, most of whom she already knew rather well. They were all seated on a scattering of metal folding chairs, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. The backstage area was dark, the area lit by long fluorescent bulbs set into the ceiling, embedded between exposed wire and pipe. Trunks and theater supplies were scattered around in piles. Owain was sitting on top of two stacked trunks, trying to delicately maintain his balance without falling onto Inigo, who was trying to pull him down.

Lucina sighed.

As expected, Laurent was nose-deep in a book, probably working on homework. Marc and Morgan were there too, sitting in the back, engaged in what seemed to be a reaction-time slapping contest. Nah was seated at the front, politely and quietly waiting for them to begin.

There were also a few kids Lucina didn’t know so well. Yarne, a nervous-looking boy was watching Inigo and Owain with some degree of anxiety. Kjelle, who had griped about missing football practice, was begrudgingly there as well. Most surprising of all, though, was –

“Cynthia!” Severa snapped, kicking a trunk out of her way as she stomped into the ring of chairs. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Noire trailed behind her, her cheek still tinted with a light bruise.

Cynthia crossed her arms and turned up her nose. “Please. You can’t think you’re the only person who cares about Gerome’s death, can you?”

“Yeah, but-“

Lucina held up a hand. “Can you guys drop it, please? We’re on a bit of a time crunch here.”

Inigo looked up from his seat on top of the piled trunks. He had evidently usurped the throne, and now Owain was trying to climb up to sit next to him. “We actually aren’t,” he said. “No one will be using this room, so we’re good until the curfew.”

Lucina nodded, a deadpan smile on her face. “Thank you, Inigo.”

Severa pointedly sat on the far side of the assembled chairs, away from Cynthia. Noire sat next to her and gently took her hand.

Lucina swiveled her head around, trying to scan the assembled group. “Is this everyone?” she said. She cleared her throat. “Hello? Anyone else coming?”

Everyone looked up. She nodded, looking back across the faces. Twenty-two eyes peered back at her. She swallowed.

“Um…okay, so, I guess you all know why we’re here.”

Everyone nodded.

“Okay, um…I really don’t know the best way to go about this. So, I guess…” she took a deep breath. “Alright, who’s seen the hooded man?”

Everyone raised their hand. She was actually taken aback by the responses. “You all have?”

A few scattered nods. “I’ve seen him a few times,” Marc perked up. “One time in the street in front of our house.”

“I saw him in the alley outside the theater,” Inigo offered.

Severa gave Noire a nudge of encouragement. “Um…I saw him in the woods the night before Gerome’s disappearance,” Noire said. “And I’ve seen him a f-few times since.”

“I saw him after practice,” Kjelle spoke up. “I could see him underneath the bleachers, through the gaps in the benches.”

“Has he been in any of your homes?” Lucina asked.

Severa nodded, speaking first. “Yeah. He was in our backyard, first, but then we saw him in the hallway.”

Marc and Morgan both raised their hands. “We were playing video games one night, and it looked like he was at the window, watching us.”

“He was in my mom’s den,” Nah said. “The power went out and I saw him when I went to flip the breaker.”

Lucina took all of their answers in, turning the thoughts over in her mind. “Okay.” She rubbed her chin. “Are we okay referring to him as ‘him’? Has anyone see its face?”

Noire raised her hand. “I saw his eyes, I think. He had six of them.”

There were some nods of agreement.

“Okay, but no one knows what he looks like? And if it’s a he?”

“Just say ‘he’,” Severa said.

“It would be most accurate to say ‘them’ if we aren’t sure,” Laurent pointed out.

Lucina pointed at him. “Hey, that reminds me. Is there just one?”

No one seemed to know for sure. They had all seen him at different times and in different places. But they had never seen more than one. And none of their experiences lined up.

“Okay, so we know there’s at least one. So…does anyone else have any more information about the hooded man?” In the absence of responses, she continued. “Okay, so…who all is having the dreams?”

Only Severa, Lucina, and Owain raised their hands.

“No one else?” Lucina asked.

Blank faces stared back at her.

Noire raised her hand half-way. “Um, I’ve been having weird dreams, but I always do. Does that count?”

“Maybe,” Lucina said, lowering her hand. “Okay, so…Owain, you saw the monster too, right? In your dreams, I mean.”

Owain nodded. “A terrifying creature, to be sure.”

Severa spoke up. “I haven’t seen the monster, but I’ve heard it. It’s the same sound our tape player made when it started acting up.”

“Yeah, that reminds me of another thing,” Lucina said brightly. “How many of you have had weird experiences with electronics? Tape players, phones, televisions, that sort of thing?”

Maybe half of them raised their hands. Severa and Nah had heard strange voices on the phone, Noire was having problems with her television. Inigo said his Walkman had been acting up, playing his tapes in reverse before crapping out entirely. Yarne’s polaroid camera took blurry, smudged photographs when he had gone to the river to shoot some pictures. Laurent’s mom’s computer was acting up, but he admitted that he didn’t know if that’s just how computers were.

Lucina turned to Cynthia. “You haven’t said anything yet. Are you experiencing any of these things?”

Cynthia fussed with her hair, retying a pigtail. She looked upset. “Well, not...”

“Then why are you even here?” Severa hissed.

“I did see something. In the woods. I couldn’t get a good look at it, but I saw its eyes. It wasn’t a man…it was bigger than that. It had six red eyes.”

Lucina nodded. “Okay…has anyone else seen the monster?”

“Monster?” Laurent frowned. “I wasn’t aware there was a monster. I assumed it was just the man.”

“A monster does sound a bit more far-fetched,” Nah agreed. “Are you sure you didn’t just trick yourself?”

“That’s what happens to me,” Noire said. “I think I see weird things a lot, but it’s usually nothing.”

“Okay,” Lucina said loudly and clearly to hush the discussion. “So…the hooded man, the dreams, the monster, weird things happening…is there anything we’re missing?” She rubbed her temples. It felt good to air all the weird shit that had been happening, so at least it was a cathartic experience if not an enlightening one.

“I, uh…I have an idea,” Severa said, standing up. “Morgan, you wanna come talk about our project?”

The two girls took Lucina’s place at the front of the semi-circle of chairs, giving Lucina a chance to sit.

“So, uh…we’re working on our project about early Ylissean history, and we found something,” Severa began. “Well, two things. One is an urban legend about a monster that lives in the mountains, and the other is about a cult that used to worship it.”

Morgan piped up. “The cult was called the Grimleal, and its members would perform human sacrifices to their deity, a six-eyed dragon monster.”

That got a response. Almost all of the assembled crew balked at that, chattering over each other as they tried to interject.

“Shut up!” Severa shouted, shutting them down. No one could yell louder than her. “Shut it! We’re gettin’ to it!” She turned back to Morgan. “Continue.”

“So the monster was called the Devil Dragon, and a bunch of people disappeared way back in the day, and it was blamed on the monster. But Tiki – uh, that’s the librarian, said that she doesn’t think the monster was necessarily to blame. She said it might be that the Grimleal were kidnapping people to sacrifice to it.”

“Did they wear purple robes?” Nah asked, crossing her legs.

“Well, maybe. They had this symbol, though.” Morgan dug through her backpack and withdrew Tiki’s drawing of the six-eyed caduceus. “It’s six eyes, just like the man has. And just like the monster.”

That got a more positive buzz and a round of agreeing nods.

“So…uh…yeah,” Morgan concluded.

“The cult was eventually hunted down and killed by Anri, the founder of this whole region,” Severa picked it up. “They executed the cultists they found, and that was that. Except…” She set her backpack down and began digging through it. “Um, just a sec.” She stood back up, in her hand a history book she had borrowed from Tiki.

“So, the Grimleal didn’t die out when they were supposed to. At least, they did in name but not practice. The second mayor of Ylisse, Marth, had to deal with a bunch of disappearances too. They attributed it to the harsh winter and the ongoing war with neighboring territories, but a couple of bodies turned up drained of blood.” She held up a page that was a reproduction of a newspaper article from the late sixteenth century, proclaiming yet another victim for an exsanguinating murderer.

Cynthia frowned. “Hey, can I see that?” she leaned forward and took the book from Severa. “Uh, my project is about Ylisse during the Gilded Age. That’s the late 1800s, if you don’t know.” She closed the book and handed it back. “But something happened then, too. Everyone attributed it to a copy-cat killer based on Jack the Ripper in England, but a bunch of people disappeared, then turned up dead.”

“When did that happen?” Nah asked.

“Um, I think the first was reported in 1874,” Cynthia said. “I didn’t pay a lot of attention because it didn’t seem relevant.”

“That’s almost exactly a hundred years after Marth,” Lucina said, looking up. “Which was a hundred years after Anri. And now…”

“One hundred years again,” Inigo finished, sitting next to her. “That can’t be coincidence.”

“So…what?” Nah crossed her legs. “We think a monster comes to life every hundred years to eat children? Is that what we’re going with?”

“Better than UFOs,” Marc muttered.

Nah nodded in agreement. “That’s a low bar to beat.”

“No, it’s not the monster,” Kjelle said, sitting forward. “It’s just the man. He’s probably some delusional religious nut, right?”

“I think it’d be best to rule out the supernatural,” Marc said. “If we tell anyone about this, that’ll just make us all sound crazy.”

“Then how do you explain the dreams?” Owain said, crossing to the front of the group. “Surely no mortal could influence that.”

“It’s just the three of you,” Inigo pointed out. “And aren’t you guys all related?”

Lucina nodded. “That’s right…” she frowned, thinking. “Huh. That’s a good point.”

“Well shit, there’s another dead-end clue,” Severa swore. “What the hell are we supposed to do with that information?”

“Perhaps it was just a story your family told,” Laurent suggested. “A childhood scary story made manifest by the strange events happening around town?”

Lucina scratched her head. “I can’t think of anything like that, but I guess it’s possible.”

Morgan kicked her feet up on an unoccupied folding chair. “So what are we thinking? What’s our uh…what’s the science word? The fancy word for idea.”

“Hypothesis?” Laurent rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that!”

“So…” Lucina began to count off the facts they had. “We know that a man has been appearing around town. He showed up at the same time that people started disappearing.” Everyone nodded. “The man has a tenuous but not-ignorable connection to two things: an old cult that used to kidnap and sacrifice people, and a monster that lives in the mountains.” More nods. “So…that’s pretty clear-cut, isn’t it? Like Kjelle said, it’s probably some psycho.”

“It doesn’t help us stop it,” Yarne pointed out, speaking up for the first time in a while. “Not to be a downer, but knowing that doesn’t help us at all. We don’t know what he looks like, why or how he chooses his victims, or where he’s operating from.”

Lucina furrowed her brow. “Well…” she tapped a finger against the side of her head. “Sevvy, did the cult have any areas of particular importance? You know, like, holy ground or something?”

Severa frowned and looked at Morgan, who shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “Tiki didn’t really didn’t tell us a ton.”

“Would you be able to ask her for more information?” 

Severa nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Well…okay, if dad lets me go to the library.”

“Okay, that’s a start. Uh, so I guess Sevvy and I will try and dig up some more about the cult. Um…” she considered which tasks were best suited to which students. “Marc and Morgan, can you ask around town about the hooded man? See if anyone else has seen him, and if it’s adults too or just kids.” They nodded. “Owain, Inigo – you two are artsy, right?” Owain nodded proudly and Inigo smiled. “Great. This is weird request, but could you try and make a recreation of the things you’ve seen in your dreams? The monster in particular.” They nodded.

“Great. Everyone else, just keep your eyes and ears open, I guess. We’ll keep meeting here as long as new information keeps coming in, right?” She turned to Inigo. “That’s okay, right? Do they use this room?”

He shook his head. “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are out, but today and Thursdays are good.”

“Great. That gives us more time to prepare between meetings.”

 

-

 

“Hey, Luci,” Severa tapped her on the shoulder. “Uh…can I ask you something weird?” They stood out front of the school in the early evening air, waiting for their dad to pick them up.

“Hm? Sure,” Lucina asked. Her breath puffed out in white clouds in front of her face. It was warm during the day, but as soon as the sun set the temperature fell with it.

“It’s about…uh....” Severa winced and shifted nervously, obviously trying very hard to pick the right words. “Uh…your…old…”

Lucina nodded. “I know what you’re saying. Just ask me.”

“Do you know why dad named you – Shit. I mean, uh, do you know why dad picked the name Marth?”

Lucina shrugged. “No, I never asked. Why?”

“Well…” Severa frowned. “You said he had the same birthmark as that thing in your eye, right?”

“Yeah…” Lucina frowned. “Hm. What are you thinking?”

“Do you think we’re…related to Marth? Or something? I was thinking about it when Inigo pointed out that only the three of us who are related are having the weird dreams.”

“We can ask when dad comes to pick us up,” Lucina said. “I have no idea, though. He hasn’t said anything about it.”

They were quiet for some time, taking in the brisk breeze, each lost in their own private world of thoughts.

“Hey, Luci.”

“Yeah?”

“Were you serious about not going to college?”

Lucina sighed. “I don’t know.”

“I think dad and mom really want you to go.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I know.”

“You need to decide soon, don’t you?”

“By January, yeah.”

Severa sat down on the curb and leaned back on her hands. “I think you should go.”

Lucina joined her. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re just…” Severa shrugged. “So cut out for all that stuff. Seeing you today really reminded me how much you’re like dad.” She snickered. “Seeing you doling out responsibilities to people like that, and seeing how quickly you started putting the pieces together…it’d be a shame if you spent your whole life in this shithole of a town.”

“It’s not that bad,” Lucina said, looking up at the sky. “I kinda like it here.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a shithole. You could do whatever you wanted with your life. It’s not like you’re me.”

Lucina lightly swiped at her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Someone’s gotta be the family fuck-up,” Severa smiled at her. “Might as well be me.”

“Don’t say that,” Lucina said.

“You know it’s true,” Severa said. Her voice wasn’t sad or angry. It was a statement of fact, not a lamentation. The phrasing of someone who had accepted her lot in life. “I’m not smart like you, I’m not charismatic like dad, and I can’t even hold a candle to someone like mom. I’m just…” she shrugged. “Just kinda here.”

“That’s how I feel too, sometimes,” Lucina bent forward and picked at weeds poking out of the curb. “That’s probably just what being a teenager is.”

Severa shook her head. “But you really could do anything you wanted to. Study politics like dad, or law like mom. Hell, you’d even make a good cop if you wanted.”

Lucina let out a snort. “No thank you.”

Severa laid back, resting her head on the concrete. “For real, though. I’d hate to see you waste your life in a town like Ylisse.”

Lucina sighed. “You too, then.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to see you waste your life either.”

Severa closed her eyes. “I still have time to decide. This is about _you_. Don’t you have any idea what you want to do?”

Lucina shook her head. “Not really.”

“You’re a natural leader. Maybe following dad wouldn’t be such a bad fit for you.”

“What’s up with you?” Lucina nudged her ribcage, making her jolt upright. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What?” Severa smirked. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lucina said sarcastically. “For real though, what’s the deal?”

Severa’s smile drooped. “I…I dunno. I’ve had a lot of time to think, I guess.”

Before she could elaborate the two were interrupted by the arrival of tires crunching on asphalt.

As they piled into the back of the car, Severa tried to remember what she was going to say to Lucina. She had meant to say a lot more – words about how much she loved her, about how much she was worried about her. Not just about the current events, but about her future. Severa had accepted her fate already – a fuck-up like her wasn’t destined for anything great anyway, so her spending her whole life in this boring town wouldn’t be a great loss to the world.

Why was she even getting so sentimental?

She buckled her seatbelt slowly. 

“So how’d it go?” Chrom asked as he shifted the car into gear.

Lucina and Severa made eye contact, frozen. They had planned on rehearsing a story, but had entirely forgotten about it.

Severa mouthed ‘Model UN’ to Lucina, who nodded.

“Great!” Lucina said excitedly. “Today was just the introductory day, so we didn’t do a whole lot, but it seems like it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“It was a buncha boring crap,” Severa picked up the ball. “They just explained like, how the UN works and stuff.”

“Do you think you’re going to stick with it?” Chrom asked.

“Definitely!” Lucina said.

“Hng…yeah,” Severa said, feigning a degree of resigned annoyance. “I guess.”

“You know, I used to be in Model UN with your Aunt Emmeryn,” Chrom said. “She was the head of the US National Security Council when we ran simulations of the Vietnam War.”

Severa nodded, definitely understanding that entire sentence. “Cool?”

Chrom smiled. “I was always a bit in her shadow, but I’m glad to see that the two of you are taking after us.”

Lucina smiled. “I think Sevvy’s just happy to get out of the house.”

“Well, at any rate, I’m proud of you two.”

Lucina and Severa made guilty eye contact.

“Uh, hey dad?” Lucina asked, trying to break off the conversation. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure,” Chrom said. “Shoot.”

“Why’d you name me Marth?”

That seemed to take Chrom by surprise. He was quiet for a moment. “That’s an odd question.”

“We were talking about it because of Sevvy’s project,” Lucina said quickly. “And, uh, we were just wondering why you picked that.”

“Your mother and I both picked it,” Chrom said. “It wasn’t just me. I don’t think we had a particular reason. It was a good, strong name –“ he stopped himself. “N-not that Lucina isn’t a beautiful name as well!”

Lucina laughed. “It’s okay, dad. I know what you mean.”

“We wanted to know if we’re related to the original Marth,” Severa called from the backseat, trying to interrupt the awkwardness.

“Hm…you know, I can’t say I’ve paid much attention to our ancestry.”

“Are we originally from Ylisse?” Lucina asked. “Or did we move here?”

Chrom lifted one hand off the wheel to scratch his head. “I couldn’t say for sure. I moved here from upstate New York, but other than my parents I didn’t have any extended family. And they moved to New York from…” he hummed, thinking. “I believe their parents were in the same region as us. And _their_ parents…” he frowned. “Honestly, girls, I have no idea. If it’s something you’re interested in, you might want to try the town archives. If we were originally from this area, I’m sure they’d have some sort of record of it.”

Lucina and Severa looked at each other. A second reason to visit the library, then.

“Um…would it be okay if we went to the library tomorrow?” Lucina asked. “Not just for that, but because we have some stuff we need to research – Sevvy’s history project, and I wanted to look up some stuff for Model UN.”

Chrom sighed. “I had a feeling you were going to ask me about that.”

“Please!” Severa pleaded. “I’ll be with Luci the whole time. I promise not to break curfew again or anything!”

“Let’s see what your mother has to say about it.”

 

-

 

“Absolutely not,” Cordelia said. “What kind of punishment would this grounding be if you were able to skip out on it whenever you pleased?” Severa pouted.

“It’s for school, though! That’s punishment, too! Learning!”

Lucina giggled at that. “She’s right, mom. It’s just for some projects we’re working on.”

Cordelia looked from the two eager girls to their father, who smiled sheepishly. “And what did your father tell you?”

“He said to ask _you_ ,” Severa said. “Which wasn’t a ‘no’!”

Cordelia was obviously thinking about it.

“I’ll do extra chores!” Severa offered. “I’ll rake the leaves and clean out the gutters!”

“You’d do that just to go to the library?” Cordelia smiled. “Very well, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooOOoOoO big reveal that was entirely telegraphed out sixteen million times!!!   
> Oh also sorry but there's gonna be some heavy exposition dump in the next chapter but that's just how it goes sometimes
> 
> This chapter dedicated to the time I told my mom I was joining the debate team but then just hung out with friends after school - and then, y'know, I did actually join the debate team eventually.


	17. Oct 5th, 3:04 PM

“Alright,” Lucina said softly into her open locker. “You can do this. Just ask him.” She nodded, taking a deep breath. “’Hey, I just wanted to thank you for-‘” she tried rehearsing, then shook her head. She tried again. “’Hey, I wanted to know if you’…no, that sounds stupid.” She scowled. It shouldn’t be that hard! They were friends! And it’s not like she was asking him _out_ or anything. Well, maybe she was, but…

Her locker door slammed shut, startling her. The culprit leaned against the adjacent locker, smirking. “I can hear you, you know,” Severa grinned.

“Shut up,” Lucina shoved her away roughly. She bent down to pick up her backpack.

“You gonna ask him out?” Severa smirked again.

Lucina shook her head. “No, I just wanted to thank him for getting that space for all of us to meet.”

“Thank him by…buying him dinner, by any chance?”

Lucina swiped at her shoulder. “I don’t see why you have to make fun of me about it!”

Severa laughed, joining her side as they walked through the halls, weaving between other milling students. “It’s just funny, that’s all. I never thought you were interested in dating.”

“Well,” Lucina looked at her shoes as she walked. “It’s…”

Severa gently nudged her. “Hey, seriously though. I’m happy for you. He’s a cute guy.”

Lucina looked up, a small smile on her face. “Yeah.”

“You gonna ask him to homecoming?” Severa asked as she kicked out her leg, her boot connecting with the metal push-bar of the door.

“Hey!” a passing teacher shouted at her.

“Sorry, I slipped,” Severa said noncommittally as they walked out the door.

The air was cool and smelled faintly of dried grass. The local farms were well into the harvest at this point, and periodically when the wind blew the right way, the smell of fields and meadows drifted into town. It was a sign of the changing seasons, the scent of a fall well on its way. The leaves on the trees were starting to turn, too, and early fallen leaves littered the sidewalk and gutters. Severa crunched along, stepping on particularly crispy leaves with almost malicious intent.

“I dunno,” Lucina continued. “I just feel like it would be weird with all the stuff that’s been going on.”

Severa shrugged, leaping from the curb down into the street to get a leaf before the wind took it. “Your life,” she said.

Lucina watched her sister curiously. “Hey…you’re doing it again.”

“Hm?” Severa looked up. “Doing what?”

“Being nice to me,” Lucina squinted. “Are you feeling okay?”

Severa pouted. “Why do you think it’s so out of character for me to be nice to you? Maybe I’m just worried about my big sister.” She skipped along, balancing on the curb and ignoring whatever Lucina’s response was. That part was at least true – she was deeply worried about Lucina. For all Severa’s problems, she knew she could at least take care of herself. A childhood living in Lucina’s shadow, ignored by her parents and looked upon as a bit of a screw-up ensured that. But Lucina was different.

She seemed much too soft for all this business. Or, if not soft, easily affected by it. And Severa knew she would turn it inwards if she was having difficulties. They both did it, no doubt a trait passed on from their mother. Lucina would bottle it up rather than ask for help from others. It had happened before, and now…lives were at stake. They couldn’t afford to be shy with each other anymore. Everything from nightmares and insomnia to fears and doubts about the future were things necessary to discuss, even if they wouldn’t have dared air their emotional trouble just a few short weeks ago.

Severa brushed a long tail of her red hair over her shoulder as she walked, slowing down so Lucina could catch up. She watched the buildings as they walked by.

The main street had been so peaceful before, but now it felt tense. Police officers stood on street corners or shared coffee under awnings. Pedestrians hurried to their destinations, eyeing the back alleys and sewer grates with fearful suspicion. Shops were adorned with signs like “HOURS CHANGED FOR CURFEW” or “CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE”, and those that were still open were attended by fewer and fewer patrons. Behind every shadow, behind every drawn curtain and locked door, there lay someone’s fear.

Severa shivered, wishing she had worn a jacket.

“Hey, you okay?” Lucina nudged her. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“Just thinking about some stuff,” Severa said. She gestured at the stone pillars of city hall as they passed. “Wanna pop in and say hi to dad?”

Lucina shook her head. “Nah, we should just get going. He’s probably busy enough without the two of us bothering him.”

The library was less than half a block away, and as they entered the receptionist stood up, gesturing to them.

“Excuse me, ladies. Can you come here a moment?”

“Oh, no,” Severa muttered to Lucina.

“Did you do something?” she hissed back.

Severa shrugged. Hopefully they hadn’t pinned her down as the culprit for the nearly dozen books she had shelved incorrectly or left lying about. Or for tracking mud through the stacks. Or for folding the pages of the books she checked out. Or for taking notes in the margins. Or for forgetting to return two of her books, one of which was being used as a doorstop in the garage and the other which was lost in the void beneath Severa’s bed. “No?” she said back, unconvincingly.

“Miss Tiki would like to speak with you,” the receptionist said, pointing. “She’s in conference room 2A, on the second floor. Right up the stairs and past the water fountain.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Lucian said politely.

The receptionist nodded and adjusted her white headband before sitting back down.

Saying the conference room was a bit of a mess would be an understatement.

Ordinarily, it was a mostly empty room consisting of a long wooden table bordered on two sides by rolling desk chairs. On one wall was a large chalkboard, and pushed against the other were a few handcarts. It still had these things, though the room was now coated with a very fine layer of scattered loose-leaf paper. The entire conference table was stacked high with books of varying width, thickness, and dustiness. The largest pile sat in the center of the table and reached nearly two feet above its surface, a mountain bordered on all sides by hills and valleys of open and fluttering textbooks.

Every square inch of the blackboard was covered in scrawled writing, some of which the girls could read but most of which was incomprehensible. It looked to Lucina almost like a cipher – an alphabet scrawled into the board, bordered in snippets of translated text and notes on conjugation and memos for verb usage and prepositions. The chalk tray was covered in half-empty or entirely empty coffee cups, cups which were also dusted evenly across the table, floor, and handcarts. The walls were coated in sticky notes and pinned up sheets of paper.

Lucina and Severa stepped cautiously over books and papers on the floor, careful not to crush any spines or leave footprints on any of the paper.

“M…Miss Tiki?” Severa said quietly. “Miss Tiki?” Either she was buried under one of the mounds of books, or she wasn’t here at all. They split up, circling around the table and looking through the room. It was as if a tornado had ripped through the library, and each step needed to be carefully calculated to avoid causing additional mess.

A mumbling sound came from under the table.

Severa and Lucina made eye contact then both squatted into a crouch.

Under the table, Tiki had evidently built up some sort of nest. Two thick comforters were wrapped around her, as were a scattered pile of pillows. And surrounding her cocooned form were yet more books and a few empty coffee mugs. She snored softly into a pillow.

Lucina looked at Severa, who shrugged.

“You’re sure she can help us?” Lucina whispered across the table.

Severa nodded. “E…excuse me,” she said, clearing her throat. “Miss Tiki?”

Tiki snorted and rolled over, tugging her blanket tighter.

Severa rolled her eyes. “Miss Tiki,” she said again, at a conversational level. “Oy. Hey. Tiki. Wake up.”

Lucina knelt under the table and reached a cautious hand out to her shoulder. “Miss Tiki?” she whispered.

Tiki bolted upright, smacking her head on the bottom of the table. “Ah!” she cried out. “I’m awake!”

Severa cackled, standing up. Lucina stood as well and glared at her.

“Girls? Miss Severa, Miss Morgan, is that you?” came an exhausted and slightly pained voice from under the table.

“Yes, Miss Tiki. It’s me. I’m here with my sister Lucina.”

“Oh, good!” Tiki said, somehow roused instantly to wakefulness. She crawled out from under the table and stood up. “I have something very interesting to show you. And be sure to share with Miss Morgan next time you see her.”

She circled the table, picking up half-empty cups of cold coffee and draining them before stacking them and moving to the door. “Would either of you girls like some coffee? I’m going to grab a fresh pot.”

Both shook their heads.

“Be right back, then,” Tiki said. “Oh, and please, do try to avoid touching anything.” The door fluttered shut behind her.

As soon as it shut, Lucina glared at Severa. “Are you serious? This is who you’ve been basing all your information on?”

Severa opened her arms, exasperated. “She seemed so put together, and, well…sane! She really does know a lot, I promise!”

“She seems like a conspiracy nut!” Lucina hissed. “I don’t know if I can believe a word out of her mouth!”

“Let’s just see what she has to say, okay? If it seems like bullshit, we can ignore it. But she hasn’t led me astray yet, okay?”

Tiki returned a few moments later, the receptionist in tow. The librarian swiped at the table, sending a few books to the floor and clearing space for her to set a steaming coffee pot and two mugs.

“Excuse me,” the receptionist bowed, somewhat embarrassed. “I’ll just be here neatening up the mess.”

“Thank you, Say’ri,” Tiki said warmly, smiling at her. She gestured towards the girls with the coffee pot. “Coffee? No?” They both shook their heads.

After pouring and downing two cups of straight black coffee, Tiki finally got to work, wading through her papers and making her way to the chalkboard. “So,” she began.

She pointed at Severa. “That book you gave me – a friend of yours had it, yes? Passed down from her mother?”

Severa nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well, I did a bit of digging and I managed to uncover some more information about it. I also managed to translate some rather important sections of it, though I will admit my translations are shaky at best. It’s not the language I had thought it was, though it does somewhat resemble middle English.”

She dug the book out from a pile on the table. Severa immediately recognized the worn leather cover.

“I’ve decided, for the sake of simplicity, to refer to this book as the ‘Book of the Fellblood’. It’s a rough translation, but I like how it sounds. It’s a text that dates back nearly as far back as recorded history allowed me to track it.”

“What?” Lucina stared at her, astonished. “Are you serious?”

Tiki nodded. “It was written by a Thabean alchemist named Forneus. Thabes is a very old city, so old that almost none of it remains now. It is in ruins, buried in the desert in the Middle East. Its exact location is unknown, unfortunately, but it likely existed at roughly the same time as ancient Sumer. For those of you not up on your history, that would mean it was written in nearly five millennia ago.”

Severa and Lucina looked at each other, then back at Tiki. “And…and Noire’s mom just had that book?” Severa asked.

Tiki nodded. “Well, that’s the thing. I’m talking about the original text – this is a reproduction. The language gave it away. The original text was no doubt penned in cuneiform – or, should I say, carved. This copy is the result of several translations, and as far as I can tell it is the most up-to-date copy that is known about. When it was written originally, Thabes was a thriving city in the desert of Mamorthod, a desert that has since been swallowed up by the shifting borders and deserts of the Middle East. I have personal theories about its location, but that is all speculation.”

“Okay,” Severa said. “It’s an old book. Got it.”

Tiki set the book down and began to page through it. “As I said, it was written by a man named Forneus. An alchemist of some great renown, it seems. Mention was made of him in quite a few texts, namely religious histories and medical documents. His interest seemed to center around raising the dead.”

“Raising the dead?” Lucina asked. She took a step closer, careful to avoid stepping on any papers, and tried to get a look at the book.

Tiki took another sip from her mug. In the background, Say’ri continued neatening up the room – stacking books on carts, shuffling papers back into order, neatly tidying up the conference table.

“At some point, it seems he made a breakthrough,” Tiki continued. “He discovered a type of insect, now extinct, called a ‘thanatophage’. He had his own name for them, but the current text borrows from Greek for the naming. When presented a corpse, these thanatophages would…and you’ll excuse the graphic nature of this, but they would burrow into the corpse’s flesh. There they would nest in the nervous system, thereby gaining control of the creature. His first experiments were with farm animals and stray dogs, but…” Tiki grimaced. “His work did eventually shift to human corpses.”

Lucina and Severa looked at each other nervously, uncertain where this story would connect with their own. Ancient alchemists seemed like a far cry from their current predicament.

“Needless to say, the ruling council of Thabes was…less than thrilled about such a turn of events. They tried several times to convince him to cease his experiments, but he persisted nevertheless. Finally, they dispatched soldiers to his workshop to destroy all his research, but they did not return. He sealed himself into his workshop to continue his work, earning the nickname ‘The Demon Alchemist’.”

Lucina nodded. “Like the dragon, right?”

“Devil Dragon,” Severa corrected.

Tiki shrugged. “It’s all the same, just different translations. But yes, I’m getting to it.” Her voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial in tone. “Now, Forneus has a second goal he was endlessly in pursuit of. He desired to create the ‘perfect organism’ – a creature that could grant power eternal, even the power to stop death. The power to topple nations, to rend the earth in two. The power to become a god.”

“A bit of an ego on that guy, huh?” Severa remarked. From behind her, Say’ri snickered.

Tiki smiled politely. “Yes, you could say so. He managed to make contact with something in his workshop, though. Something strange, dark, and powerful…” she turned the book and pointed. “A six-eyed beast of shadow and scale.”

Lucina felt a chill and her lungs tightened. It was those same eyes, that same monster.

Tiki shook her head and shut the book. “I have not deduced how, nor by what powers he managed to do it. His own writings detail the use of a substance referred to as ‘divine dragon blood’, though where he got it is not clear. One thing that _is_ clear is that what he found was not of our world. It was not something meant to be.”

The room grew silent and still. Even Say’ri ceased her work to listen.

Tiki pushed the book away, almost as if she were afraid to touch it. “Forneus used his own blood in conjunction with the divine blood, an act that would become his undoing. In reaching out to the other world, he made this creature aware of our world. He meddled in something beyond the human race. Beyond our understanding of good and evil, right and wrong. His mixing of blood formed a pact of sorts, a pact that drove him to madness.”

She took another sip of her coffee, frowning. “The end of his journal is the scribbled ravings of a madman. He was driven to insanity by his work. Following his making contact with this creature, he began writing of a voice that reached out to him, first in his dreams, then in his waking hours. A voice that wormed into his head, driving him to his own destruction. He fled his lab, burning it to the ground behind him before running off into the desert. He vanished without a trace, the only remains of his life and his work contained in the journal entries that survived the purging flames.”

“So…” Severa furrowed her brow, trying to piece it all together. “He…he didn’t create the monster, but he discovered it?”

Tiki nodded. “His writings became the holy text of the Grimleal. They worship this monster as a god, and it is to this dark god that they performed their sacrifices. They were hunted as heretics, burned as witches, tortured and slaughtered, all fates they gladly accepted for their god. They worshiped in secret through the long centuries, eventually making their way to the new world.”

“To Archanea,” Lucina said.

Tiki nodded. “Yes. I was foolish to think that Anri could have exterminated them. Or to think that Marth did. This goes back farther than either of them.”

“Well…” Severa frowned. “Not to rain on your parade, or brush off all your work, or whatever, but how does this help us? We know more about them, but-“

“Knowledge is power,” Tiki cut her off. “You would do well to remember that. One month ago you knew nothing of your adversary, and now you know their history, their motives and desires. What will you know next month?” she smiled.

Lucina sat down on a chair Say’ri had cleared off. “I agree. I think it’s important to know as much about them as we can. This man is clearly one of them. One of the Grimleal, I mean. Knowing what he thinks is the first step to stopping him.”

“Oh, hey,” Severa said, remembering why they came. “Is there anywhere important to the Grimleal? We were talking about it yesterday and thought that if we knew where he might be working from, we could catch him.”

Tiki nodded, stroking her chin. “Thabes, of course, is the obvious answer. But I doubt our man is booking an international flight every time he kidnaps someone.” She hummed, drumming her fingers against the surface of the table. “Actually…” She pulled a book out of a stack Say’ri had just finished, collapsing it back on the table.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said apologetically. Say’ri gave a sympathetic nod and began neatening it again. “I’ve seen mention of the altar that the Grimleal use for their sacrifices. An altar referred to as ‘The Dragon’s Table’.” She looked up. “Like a table for a feast, you see.”

“We get it,” grimaced Lucina.

“It’s a bit of a hike,” Tiki admitted. “The local sacrifice grounds for the Grimleal were high in the mountains.”

“We could go this weekend,” Severa said to Lucina.

Tiki frowned, snapping the book shut. “Girls, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I trust you’re both physically fit enough for it, but it’s cold. Hikers get lost in the mountains all the time, and that’s without factoring in your hunt for a murderer.”

Lucina blinked in surprise. “Well, yeah…”

“But…” Severa protested.

Say’ri looked up from a neatened cart, satisfied with her handiwork. “We could go with them,” she suggested. “Having an expert like you would surely be a boon as well.”

Tiki sighed. “I was hoping to catch up on some sleep this weekend.”

Say’ri smiled. “And I was just thinking about how lovely the weather is for a hike. Do you girls have the proper attire?”

Lucina and Severa looked at each other, shrugging. They both vividly remembered their prior lack of preparation for even a short hike.

“Uh…what would you recommend?” Lucina winced sheepishly.

Say’ri grinned. “I’ll go get you a list.”

Tiki sat down at the table, resting her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, Miss Tiki. I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” Lucina said. “I didn’t think she was-“

Tiki waved her off. “It’s fine. She’s been meaning to get me out of the house for a few weeks anyway.” She folded her hands, staring at the now-empty coffeepot. “I’d been hoping to avoid such a trip, but I suppose it must be done at some point.”

“Is there something dangerous about the Dragon’s Table?” Lucina asked.

Tiki grimaced. “Not as such, but it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Places like that…” she looked up. “Girls, have either of you visited a historic battlefield?”

They both shook their heads.

Tiki frowned. “Places like that, places soaked in blood…they have a feel to them. An aura of discomfort that hangs, even centuries after. The land may change, but the air remains the same. Tainted by the stench of death. It…it makes me incredibly afraid.”

Severa and Lucina looked at each other nervously.

“M-Miss Tiki?” Severa said softly.

“I would not go there if I felt there was any other choice.” Tiki stared at the tabletop.

“Have you been to the Dragon’s Table before, Miss Tiki?”

Tiki suddenly snapped back to alertness. “Hm? What was that?”

The door to the conference room opened and Say’ri walked in, two sheets of lined notebook paper in her hands. She handed one to each girl.

“Packing lists for Saturday. I’ll bring a map and compass, but backups are appreciated if you have them. The most important things to remember are the first-aid kit, water bottles, food, boots, proper clothing, and toilet paper.”

“Ugh,” Severa grimaced at the list. “’Sanitation products’?” she read with disdain.

Say’ri nodded. “We’re departing at six and I wouldn’t expect to be back before sundown. I’ll bring a tent and headlamps just in case.”

Lucina peered at the list. “Sevvy, I think we might have to get mom to take us shopping. I don’t have boots or any of these clothes.”

Severa frowned. “Shit, I forgot about mom and dad. You don’t think they’ll believe we’re going on a field trip, do you?”

“Language, young lady,” Tiki scolded her gently, though she seemed tired. She closed her eyes. Say’ri rested a hand on her shoulder gently. “It’s okay, Tiki. Sleep. I’ll talk about this weekend with the girls.”

Tiki nodded and sunk down onto folded arms, closing her eyes.

Say’ri smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for her.”

“Is she anemic?” Severa asked.

“Anemic? Why do you ask?” Say’ri asked, surprised.

“My girlfriend’s anemic, so she needs to sleep all the time, too.”

Say’ri smiled warmly. “Something like that.” She sat down, tugging Severa’s sheet of paper across the table towards her to read from. “At any rate, proper footwear is probably the most important thing. Are either of you a size nine?”

“I’m nine and a half,” Lucina suggested.

“Not good enough. You won’t be able to borrow from me, then.”

“Hey, Luci,” Severa nudged her. “What are we gonna tell mom and dad?”

Lucina frowned. “I mean, they’d be okay if we just said we’d be hanging out with friends all day, right?”

Severa shrugged. “If we’re leaving at six, that’s before the curfew. And we’ll be coming back after it ends. And I’m _still_ on house arrest.”

Lucina scowled. She hated lying to her parents, but it kept seeming necessary. “We don’t ask,” she said at last. “We sneak out and leave a note.”

Severa’s eyes widened, excited. “Woah, Luci! Are you serious?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to, but I can’t think of any other option. I’m tired of lying to them.”

“If we need to go buy hiking gear, won’t that tip them off?”

“We can skip school tomorrow and take the bus to the mall.”

Severa laughed, surprised. “Wow, you must really be serious about all this!” She stifled her laughter, seeing Lucina’s serious expression. “Y…you’re serious?”

Severa looked from her to Say’ri, who was wrapping a blanket around Tiki’s shoulders. She looked back somberly.

“Girls…I don’t know what’s happening in this town, but I do know that it’s not good. Tiki seems to believe that the two of you can do something about it. If you have the power to stop it, then shouldn’t you?”

Lucina nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. This is more important than school or mom and dad not being mad at us. It’s more important than any of us.” She took a deep breath, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ll be taking a hike this weekend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry that was such a load of Exposition. Y'all read that Echoes post-game stuff? Pretty wild, right?


	18. October 8th, 5:13 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAA SORRY this one took forever

Lucina and Severa each stared at the supplies spread out on their beds before them. Empty backpacks sat on the ground between them and they both got to work, packing supplies as neatly as they could.

Water bottles, a roll of toilet paper each, a change of socks, sunscreen, bandanas, matches, sunglasses, flashlights, first aid kits, pocket knives, water purification tablets, two walkie-talkies, bags of trail mix, energy bars, packs of beef jerky, towels. Severa was bringing the polaroid camera and Lucina was bringing binoculars.

Severa grimaced. “Well there goes all my money from that shitty filing job over the summer.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Lucina said. “Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, right?”

Severa scowled. It was still dark out and she felt exhausted. They had even gone to bed early, and she didn’t think she had any nightmares. Even so, it was too damn early to be awake. She leaned over her bed and pried the window open, letting in a blast of frigid autumn air. It was going to be a cold day. The long-sleeved shirts and jackets were a good suggestion.

“Say’ri said she’d be parked on main street, so just a block away. Ready to go?”

Lucina nodded. She shuffled, her new boots scuffing the carpet.

“Oh, and she said to bring a tape if you wanna listen to music on the drive,” Severa said, pointing at the tape-deck. “None of that hipster bullshit, yeah? Or I’m making us listen to Judas Priest.”

Lucina nodded. “How about Duran Duran?”

Severa squinted. “Acceptable.”

They shuffled out the window onto the short section of roof overlooking the backyard, backpacks slung over their shoulders. As Severa began to shimmy down the drainpipe, Lucina looked out at the neighborhood. The mountains on the horizon glowed, outlined in the first orange light of sunrise, but the sky was still dark and starry. The neighborhood was silent and still. She breathed in the cold morning air, steeling herself. It was going to be a long day.

“Psst! You coming?” Severa hissed up at her.

Lucina climbed down from the roof.

They had left a note on the desk, assuring their parents that they were not missing – they had not been kidnapped, nor were they in any danger. They were with competent adults and they were together. They had even included an emergency number, though they both knew that the line it connected to was Tiki and Say’ri’s personal number – which they obviously wouldn’t be home to answer. Even so, Lucina couldn’t help but feel nervous. They’d certainly be read the riot act when they returned regardless, though Lucina prayed their parents wouldn’t be too worried.

As they walked along the quiet neighborhood street, she tried to feel comfortable in her new hiking boots. She had worn them to school Thursday and Friday in an attempt to get used to them, accepting ridicule from her friends.

Inigo had wanted to come, but they decided it would be best if it were just the two of them. Simpler. They would report back as soon as they could, though.

They turned onto main street and quickly located the only car there – a faded green hatchback with wood-paneled sides sat idling, it’s tailpipe spitting thin wispy smoke into the air. Say’ri got out to greet them and helped them load their packs into the back of the car.

Lucina wasn’t sure if professional hiking was a thing, but if it was, Say’ri certainly looked the part. Form-fitting black pants, very worn but expensive-looking brown hiking boots, a long-sleeved moisture-wicking sweatshirt under a purple down jacket. She of course had her hair tied back with her white headband, though now the back was tied back in a low ponytail. “Good morning, girls,” she smiled. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

Severa groaned. “It’s too early,” she mumbled. “Can I go back to bed?”

Say’ri smiled and opened the side doors to let them in. “You can sleep on the way. It’ll be about an hour and a half drive to the hiking trail.”

“An hour and a half?!” Severa groaned.

“We’ll be stopping for breakfast on the way,” Say’ri said, climbing into the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind her. “I’ll wake you up.” She fussed with the tape player, digging through a pile of cassettes in the center console. She held up a tape. “Metallica okay?”

“Fuck yeah it is,” Severa called from the backseat. Lucina smacked her.

Tiki was sitting in the passenger seat, snoozing softly against the window.

As the car rumbled along main street, Lucina stared out the window at the flashes of light from passing streetlamps. She felt tired but couldn’t possibly sleep. She was too nervous, too full of excited energy. Every day they were inching closer and closer to the truth. And today, they might finally find it.

 

-

 

Noire rolled out of bed, hitting the ground with a thud. She gasped for breath, swiping into the air frantically. She pushed herself to her knees and tried to stifle the urge to vomit.

Her room was bright, the light from sunrise streaming in through the open curtains. She staggered to the window and slid it open, sticking her head out into the cold morning air. She closed her eyes, letting the morning sun warm her face.

Ever since her mother had taken her nightlight, her nights felt like suffocation. Her dreams, too, had been growing darker and stranger. She tried to forget them, washing them away in the sunlight. She blinked, opening her eyes slowly.

She opened her door cautiously, checking to see where her mother was. It felt quiet, almost strangely so. The door to her mother’s room was still shut, so likely she was still asleep. Her stomach grumbled.

She managed a mouthful of orange juice before she had to run to the bathroom and throw up. She clutched her stomach, blinking tears from her eyes as she hunched over the toilet. She spit, her mouth tasting like bile.

Noire was apt to get sick, true, so this was nothing new. The way her stomach twisted, though, felt different. It was almost like food poisoning, but not quite. She clutched her stomach and dry-heaved before collapsing onto the tile.

She reached out her hand towards the door. “M-mom,” she choked out, hoarsely. “Mom…” her trembling hand looked somewhat different. She reached her other hand up and wiped at her eyes. The backs of her hands felt itchy and she scratched them, alternating hands. Something was definitely wrong.

She weakly pushed herself up to her knees and pushed the bathroom door open. “Mom…” she called out feebly. “M-“ she scratched her hands more furiously, her jagged nails raking over the flesh. She felt her fingers twitching involuntarily. Another bout of cramps wracked her abdomen. She doubled over in the bathroom doorway. She felt like her stomach was ripping itself apart from the inside, and on top of that her hands itched like crazy. She frantically scratched, ignoring the thin lines of blood she was etching into her skin.

“Mom,” she groaned again. Her mother’s bedroom door opened and out walked Tharja, a stern frown already fixed on her face.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Mom,” Noire mumbled from the floor. “I don’t feel good…” she tried pushing herself up again.

Tharja frowned. “You’re always getting sick. Did you get something to eat?”

Noire shook her head, blinking rapidly. “N-no,” she said. “But-“

“Well get some breakfast, then. And clean up that mess you made in the bathroom,” she said, peering past Noire’s prone form.

“No, mom,” Noire mumbled. “I’m really sick. I think you need to take me to a doctor,” she said. She whimpered, clawing at her hands frantically. The skin was growing red and tender, the thin red lines widening into bloody scrapes. She suppressed the urge to slam her hand in the door, desperate for anything to stop the burning sensation. “Please, mom, my stomach really hurts, and my hands hurt…”

Tharja frowned. “Take some stomach medicine. If you’re hands are itchy, moisturize them. It’s probably just the cold air.” She returned to her room.

Noire struggled to her feet and turned to sift through the medicine cabinet. She opened the cabinet and fell, lurching onto the sink, which she gripped for dear life. She managed to pull the lid off a bottle of stomach medicine and took a swig, heedless of the suggested dosage. Anything to stop the pain. She let the bottle clatter to the floor, spilling the thick pink liquid across the tile. Her vision felt blurry.

She turned the sink on and stuck her hands under the faucet, watching the water wash the blood from the backs of her hands. The white basin filled with a pinkish red foam. She scrubbed at her hands with a bar of soap, which turned red as she washed. She stared at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes were watery and frantic, her brow sweating. Her plain t-shirt was ringed in sweat and a trail of spittle tracked down the front. She whimpered, stifling tears at her own pitiful appearance. She scarcely even noticed the sink’s temperature until she could see the steam rising up from the bowl. The water was almost scalding. She withdrew her hands, yelping.

Her hands looked even worse than her face, bloody scrapes surrounded by almost blistering flesh.

She stared in horror at the blood congealing on the backs of her palms, etching shapes into the inflamed skin. The blood pooled in spots, thin lines tracing between the pools to draw out a pattern in each trembling hand. She gasped, choking on her breath, before collapsing to the floor. As her vision faded she could still hear the sink running, overflowing with scalding water. She stared at the back of her hands, and her hands stared back.

 

-

 

Say’ri stretched, yawning. “We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day,” she remarked idly, walking off with Tiki and leaving Lucina to wait up for Severa. They had parked at the bottom of a hiking trail up into the mountains. After an hour or so drive north, they stopped at a roadside diner for breakfast. Severa had ignored Say’ri’s suggestion and ordered a stack of buttermilk pancakes, a decision she quickly regretted two stomach cramps in. She stomped back through the bushes towards her hiking companion, scowling.

You gonna live?” Lucina smirked, standing up from a crouch over the creek they were stopped at.

Severa glared at her. “I think I’m dying. You gotta go on without me. I’ll be back at the car, if you need me.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Lucina said, yanking her arm. “You’re the one who made a bad breakfast decision.”

“I was sooo hungry though!” Severa whined. “It was worth it at the time!”

Lucina laughed. “Come on, they’re just around this bed in the creek.”

Tiki was chewing on a granola bar and peering back and forth between a map Say’ri was holding up and a photocopy of an old map from one of her books. She squinted and made a note on her map. “It looks like we can follow this creek until it hits this lake, here. Then we’ll need to go north.” Say’ri nodded. Tiki looked up. “Feeling any better, Miss Severa?”

Severa nodded, resigned. “Yeah, a bit.”

“I have some antacids if you-“

“Just drop it!” Severa cut her off. “Look, are we going, or what?”

As much as she hated to admit admiration of the beauty and splendor of nature, Severa couldn’t help but acknowledge that the mountains were lovely this time of year. The green leaves gave way to shades of orange and yellow, and the morning sun filtered down through the canopy of trees, lighting up their path as the hiked along the narrow creek. The water was clear and sparkling, dripping downhill from up north somewhere. They followed it up, winding along the creek, over rocks and roots, scrambling up boulders and plunging through bushes.

With almost a frightening degree of foresight, Say’ri had through to bring a machete, a decision Severa had ridiculed before seeing how remarkably fortunate that decision was. They hacked through the underbrush when it got too thick, chopped through thornbushes to prevent their clothing from tearing, and Say’ri had briefly threatened to throw it at a deer before it ran off. And Severa had to admit it did make her feel a little safer. Any sort of weapon was comforting, considering the circumstances.

Occasionally they could see the mountains ahead through the gaps in the trees. The tops rose high into the sky, dotted with outcroppings of rock and sparse trees. They crunched noisily up the blanket of fallen leaves, idly chatting as the morning wore on.

Lucina, for her part, was in love. The colors, the sky, the soft breeze…it was all spectacular. She would have been content to sit in the woods until she died, engulfed in the beautiful landscape. She knew it was pretty in the fall – Ylisse’s tourism spiked when the seasons changed, as it did with many New England towns, but she had never really been at a vantage point to appreciate it. In town, the trees changed but the buildings remained the same.

Out here, far from civilization, she immersed herself in the sensations of fall. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Psst,” Severa jabbed her side as she passed her. “Look.”

They looked ahead. Tiki and Say’ri were a few dozen paces ahead, chatting quietly. Tiki’s hand was nestled in Say’ri’s soft, firm grip, keeping her at her side even as Tiki hopped up on fallen logs or bounced lightly from rock to rock. Say’ri’s thumb rubbed the back of her hand tenderly.

Lucina smiled. “So? I think it’s cute.”

Severa made a face.

“It’s romantic,” Lucina said. “Wouldn’t you love to take a nice walk in the woods with Noire?”

Severa scoffed. “I don’t think she’s even capable of hiking.” Though she brushed off the idea, she admitted to herself that it sounded nice. Any alone time with Noire was nice, and she probably would have loved the quiet isolation of the woods. The thought of their hands entwined, walking along the creek. Or sitting against a tree, gently wrapped in each other’s arms…Severa sighed. God, she missed that stupid girl.

“They’re just such an odd couple, don’t you think?” she said, shaking the thought from her mind.

Lucina shrugged. “Who’s to say?”

Tiki landed on a loose rock and stumbled. Say’ri caught her, tugging her back into a safe embrace.

“Thank you, my dear,” Tiki said, smiling up at her.

“You okay?” Lucina jogged lightly forward, catching up.

“Yes, I just slipped a bit. Nothing to worry about.” Tiki brushed herself off.

“Are we there yet?” Severa lagged behind, griping.

Say’ri laughed. “Severa, if you’re tired already, you’re in for a long day.”

Severa pouted. “So that’s a no?”

“We’re maybe two thirds of the way up,” she responded, checking her map. “We’ve only been hiking for about four hours.”

Severa groaned.

They stopped for lunch on a rocky outcropping that poked out over a particularly steep slope. From their vantage point, they really did look like they were about halfway up the mountain range. They could see the broad sweep of the river valley spread out before them, thick deciduous trees of all colors painting the valley in a warm rainbow. In the distance they could follow the broad blue river, terminating at the sparkling flat disc of the reservoir. And just before that, the town of Ylisse, far below.

Lucina sat cross-legged at the edge, peering down at the town with her binoculars. “It looks so close,” she said. “It’s hard to believe how high up we are.”

Tiki sat down next to her and handed her a sandwich. “Yes, it really is something to behold.”

“I can see so much from up here,” Lucina said. “Hey, I can even see the library!”

Tiki hummed and smiled.

Severa and Say’ri sat farther back from the edge, huddled around a makeshift campfire over which Say’ri was boiling a pot of creek water. She and Tiki had an argument about whether or not they packed the instant noodles for lunch or dinner, which terminated in Say’ri declaring she would eat hers for lunch and Tiki could have hers for dinner. Severa was simply hoping to get in on the action, dissatisfied with her own sandwich. She poked the fire with a stick.

Lucina lowered her binoculars. “You really think the Grimleal came out all this way? Without a car, wouldn’t it take much longer to get here?”

Tiki nodded. “Not much different on a horse, I wouldn’t think. And unlike cars, they could take horses up mountain trails if they weren’t too steep. It looks like some of the old dirt roads reached up higher than the current paved ones do.”

“So where are we headed?” Lucina asked between mouthfuls of bread and meat. She washed a bite down with a swig of blue-flavored energy drink.

“Not too much farther,” Say’ri explained as she stirred her pot of boiling noodles. “I wouldn’t wager more than an hour or so.”

“What exactly are we going to find when we get there?” Severa asked.

Say’ri looked at Tiki to field the answer.

Tiki stared out into the valley, thinking. “I’m hoping I will recognize it when I see it,” she said. “A place of worship, and a place of sacrifice.” She hummed thoughtfully. “The Dragon’s Table…”

Say’ri rolled her eyes. “We’ve discussed it a bit. She thinks it’s likely going to be made of stone, so it might be mostly ruins at this point. A couple hundred years isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it’s probably been buried by plant growth. Though neither of us know for sure.” She poured a flavor packet into the boiling water and stirred. Severa’s stomach grumbled.

“Noodles are ready if anyone wants them,” Say’ri said, taking the pot off the fire.

After lunch, they took a quick break to stretch and limber up for the remainder of the hike.

“This is the easy part,” Say’ri explained as they plunged back into the woods. “It seems harder because we’re going uphill, but we’re all going to be much more tired on the return journey. And slopes that are tough to climb up can be even worse to go down.”

“I hope mom and dad aren’t worried about us,” Lucina remarked. She rustled the leaves around the underbrush with her boots as she walked.

“Eh,” Severa said. “Who cares?”

“I do,” Lucina frowned. “They’re stressed enough as it is.”

“You know they’re gonna be pissed at us anyway,” Severa said. “Listen, just enjoy it while we’re here. It’s not every day we get up into the mountains, y’know?”

Lucina sighed. “I think you’re right. I just hate disappointing them.”

The sun crossed the sky above them, casting shifting shadows on the forest floor as they ascended. The clusters of deciduous trees became dotted with conifers, and then it was almost entirely conifers. The thick carpet of fallen leaves was replaced with a sprinkling of pine needles on fallen logs and split branches.

“We’re almost there,” Say’ri said after what Severa thought must have been an interminable amount of time. “In fact, it could be anywhere around here.”

Severa frowned. “You mean you don’t even know where it is?”

“Well…” Say’ri trailed off.

“We’re close,” Tiki said suddenly. “I can feel it.” She took the lead from Say’ri, walking with startlingly clear purpose and direction, weaving between the narrow trunks. She left them several paces behind and wound back and forth through the woods like a bloodhound following a scent. She would occasionally stop, turn, then pace back and forth before continuing.

“Excuse me, Miss Say’ri?” Lucina asked.

“Mm?” Say’ri turned to her.

“Is Miss Tiki okay?”

Say’ri frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Is she…uh…” Lucina gestured.

“She wants to know what Tiki’s deal is,” Severa explained bluntly. “I do too. What’s up with her?”

Say’ri sighed, trailing behind her wife with some degree of resignation as she explained. “Tiki is…a very special woman. She…” she paused, searching for the right words. “She is far older and far wiser than her appearance and demeanor would suggest,” she said at last. “She knows many things, and she knew many more in the past.”

“What do you mean?” Severa asked.

Say’ri pursed her lips. “The blood of the divine dragon, she called it? Yes, that was it. The blood of the divine dragon runs through her veins, too.”

Lucina and Severa looked at each other, confused.

“Up here!” Tiki called, interrupting them. She poked her head out from around a tree. “It’s just up ahead!”

The three followed behind her at a light jog.

Past a thicket of trees lay the Dragon’s Table.

It was a massive structure, at its highest point almost reaching up to the tips of the pine trees. It was constructed of slabs of dark grey stone, intricately carved out from the mountainside. Two massive stone pillars marked out the entrance, the top and bottom shaped into the twisting forms of gothic dragons. Above the pillars, set into the top of the structure, was a massive frieze decorated with bas-relief sculptures. The entire edifice was worn down by the long years of harsh wind, snow, and rain, and vines tangled their way along the walls, sprouting from cracks in the stone. It almost seemed camouflaged by the forest, so sheltered by twisting roots and tangled bushes it was.

Severa squinted to get a better look at the carved designs.

The bas-relief depicted a series of what could only be described as atrocities – human forms in positions of motion and violence, piled corpses, and a tangled frame of scaly tentacles around the sculpture. The shapes adorning the top and bottom of the pillars, too, seemed designed to horrify. Around the bottom of each was a coiled dragon, with sharp, vicious fangs and six eyes set deeply into their reptilian heads. They seemed to watch their visitors.

The women stared in silence at the entrance to the structure, each awestruck. Beyond the overgrowth obscuring the gaping doorway lay an empty, silent darkness.

Say’ri was the first to move, setting down her pack and rifling through it, withdrawing two headlamps. She clicked them on and off to test them, then passed one to Tiki. “You girls brought flashlights, right?”

Lucina nodded numbly and fished through her own backpack for her flashlight. Say’ri strapped her light to her head and took a first cautious step towards the entrance to the structure.

“It looks like a temple,” Severa pointed out, clicking her light on. “Like those Greek temples, right?”

Tiki nodded. “It was likely modeled after the temples of Thabes.” She reached out a cautious hand to one of the carven dragons. She stopped shortly before her long fingers brushed its scaly head, withdrawing her hand.

Lucina stared into the darkness of the temple, her eye itching. She rubbed it, grimacing.

“You okay, Luci?” Severa said.

“Yeah, my eye’s giving me trouble again,” she muttered, trying to ignore it. “It’s fine.”

Tiki returned to their side. “Something the matter?”

Lucina shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She lied unconvincingly, making it very apparent that another headache was striking her. She clutched her head and let out a sharp gasp.

“Luci!” Severa grabbed her.

“I’m…fine,” Lucina said through clenched teeth. She opened both eyes and stared into the temple.

Tiki gasped, for the first time finally seeming surprised by something. She grasped Lucina’s face and held it up into the sunlight.  “Your eye…”

“What?” Lucina said, staring back wildly at her, frightened. “What’s wrong?”

“That brand…” Tiki stared in wonder. “The Mark of Naga,” she whispered.


	19. October 8th, 4:54 PM

Inigo leaned against the side of the arcade cabinet, arms crossed under a stern glare. “It’s not gonna happen,” he said. “She’s unbeatable.” He rested his head against the bold, gothic block letters that spelled out _GAUNTLET_.

Owain glared at him. “Watch.”

He fingered a faded quarter in anticipation, waiting. Another figure crossed into the aisle, sidling past other arcade-goers as she sucked soda through a straw.

“Alright, losers. Who’s up?” Nah smirked, flipping her braids over her shoulder.

“I’m out of quarters,” Inigo said, ducking his head in apology. “Besides, I’m not gonna waste any more on such a pointless task.”

Owain scoffed. “Pointless? My dear friend, this is my sacred quest! To vanquish her is what I have been practicing for for the past two weeks!”

Nah laughed. “Oh my god, you’ve been _practicing_?” she picked up her soda and took another drink. “Owain, I’m gonna kick your ass.” She set her drink down confidently on the machine. “You know what? I’m so confident you can’t win that I’ll even let you pick my character.”

“Thor,” Owain said, without missing a beat.

“Fuck you,” Nah scowled. “Fine.”

Inigo laughed. “I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want anything, Owain?”

“I thought you said you were out of quarters,” Owain said, shoving his own into the cabinet’s slot.

“Yeah, but I still have some cash.”

“Get me…uh…” Owain’s voice trailed off, drowned out by the frantic beeps and boops as the machine booted to life.

Inigo smiled and walked down the aisle, slipping past other patrons. The arcade was always a sea of neon light and harsh noise, but particularly on Saturdays. It was partly due to the curfew – no longer able to hang out outside, many kids chose instead to flock here. It smelled like week-old nacho cheese and cigarettes, and for some reason the only music they ever played was heavy metal, but it was a place Inigo, Owain, and Nah hung out often. Gerome hadn’t, of course – he hadn’t much cared for video games.

Inigo narrowly avoided a young boy swinging a lightgun frantically in wide arcs before ducking out of the aisle and making his way to the food counter.

Behind the counter sat a young man with his feet up on the register, reading a magazine and chewing on a lollipop stick. His orange hair draped messily over a black headband. “Hm?” he asked, not looking up.

“Hey, Gaius,” Inigo said, leaning on the counter.

Gaius looked up. “Oh, hey, Inigo,” he said, reaching up and taking the stick out of his mouth. “What can I getcha?”

Inigo looked at the menu board, struggling to read the askew black letters through the hazy filter of smoke and neon glare. “Uh…” he frowned. “Gimme a bag of potato chips and a coke.”

Gaius got up and fussed behind the counter, withdrawing Inigo’s order. “That’ll be seventy-five cents,” he said, dropping his lollipop into the trashbin and immediately sticking another one in his mouth.

Inigo zoned out, watching him place his money in the register and get him his change – a single quarter, enough for one round of Gauntlet if he wanted to. He decided someone needed to give Owain an ego boost after he got his ass kicked, and it might as well be him.

“You okay, dude?” Gaius asked him. He was holding out the quarter.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Inigo took it. “Uh…hey Gaius, have you seen anything weird recently?”

Gaius frowned. “Weird? Whaddaya mean?”

“Like…uh…you know, weird people around town?”

“Specifically?” Gaius opened his magazine. Inigo squinted at it and sighed, disappointed but unsurprised by the scantily-clad women within.

“Uh…” Inigo pursed his lips. “A guy in a robe, maybe?”

“What, like a bathrobe?”

Inigo sighed. “Never mind. See you later, Gaius.”

So much for that. Of all the adults…well, ‘adults’ Inigo knew, Gaius seemed the most likely to see a weird thing and not immediately brush it off or panic.

“Hey, wait!” Gaius called after him. Inigo turned. “Now that you mention it, I was closing up shop a few days ago and I saw…well, I don’t know. Looked kinda like a person, but it was hard to tell since it was so dark.”

“Where did you see it?”

“Here, in the arcade,” Gaius said. “Right when I was locking up the front, I thought I saw something in the back of the room. I tried to turn the lights back on, but they flickered and sparked a bit before shutting off. I needed to reset the damn breaker to fix it, and when I did the thing was gone.”

“Did it have six eyes?” Inigo asked.

“I didn’t see,” Gaius said. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Inigo said, thinking.

He returned to Owain and Nah in a daze, slowly eating his chips. He stared at the screen of the arcade machine, watching one set of numbers tick up and the other tick up much faster. He was dimly aware of competitive shouting, something about ghosts and sorcerers. He watched the sprites rushing around the screen. Over the music, he could hear the narrator proclaim that the warrior needed food badly.

He felt himself getting overwhelmed by the sensory input. The light, the music, the shouting voices, the thick, smoky air.

“Get the generator, you idiot!” Nah shouted. “If you don’t stop the ghosts from coming, then we’re both toast!”

“I’m trying!” Owain shouted. “You’re the one who took my bomb potion!”

“Ugh,” Nah snapped. “If you lure those sorcerers into the bottom corner, I’ll give you my food.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Owain repeated.

Inigo stared, his mind racing. He watched the screen, staring at the pixelated sorcerers pouring from a square tile adorned with a red skull.

“Look out!” Nah shouted, frantically slapping the console. “You’re about to step on a trap tile!”

 

-

 

Say’ri hacked through the overgrown plants snaking across the temple door, satisfied to be getting some more use out of her machete. With a final swing, she separated two halves of a massive web of vines and the plants fell away, clearing the path into the darkness of the structure.

“Mark of Naga my ass,” she muttered, sheathing the machete and switching on her headlamp. The sky overhead was still bright and blue, but in the clearing in the woods it almost seemed like the light was being sucked up by something. It felt cold and dim, even in the afternoon sun.

She poked her head into the doorway and swept her light’s beam in a wide arc, checking the entrance for anything of note.

“Miss Say’ri?” Severa cautiously approached her. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the structural integrity,” Say’ri responded flatly. She slapped an open palm on the worn rock. “Can’t have this collapsing on our heads.”

“Uh…” Severa frowned. “Why are you upset about Luci’s eye?”

Say’ri shook her head. “It’s…” she sat down, patting the carved stone stairs and gesturing for Severa to sit. She obliged, though sitting with their backs to the gaping temple entrance made her skin crawl.

“It’s a pet theory of Tiki’s,” Say’ri explained. “She’s been obsessed with it – tracking the flow of divine dragon blood through the human race.”

Severa stared at her. “Alright, I’m gonna need you to run that one by me again. What?”

 “Divine dragon blood – that’s what she called it, yes? The blood Forneus used in his rituals.”

“Yeah, I got that part. Who has divine dragon blood, though? I assumed that was a bullshit thing – like mithril or ambrosia or whatever.”

Say’ri nodded. “As do I. But Tiki…” she sighed. “Tiki is convinced that it not only exists, but flows through the veins of men. She claims that all sorts of historical figures had it – not just Anri, and Marth, but Alm, Celica…” she muttered another few names Severa couldn’t hear.

“Who?”

“Uh…King Arthur, Alexander the Great, Joan of Arc…” Say’ri pressed her face into her hands. “It’s just so absurd, and I have no idea why she persists with it.”

Severa looked up, watching Tiki fuss with her sister’s face.

“Does she think all those people are related?”

Say’ri shook her head. “No, just that they all share this trait – they all possess this gift.”

“Gift from who?” Severa asked.

 A few paces away, Tiki pouted, still peering at Lucina’s face. “Where’d it go?” she asked.

“It does that,” Severa said to Say’ri. “Comes and goes.”

Tiki returned to them in a huff, Lucina trailing sheepishly behind her. “Well,” Tiki said. “I suppose we will have to hold off on that investigation. Shall we get moving?” she gestured into the temple. Say’ri nodded and stood up before helping Severa to her feet.

The temple was dark and musty. Motes of dust floated in the air in their various beams of light projected from headlamps and flashlights. Severa inhaled a lungful of dust and coughed, scattering even more dust into the air.

Her cough echoed, the only sound in the gaping, still darkness. Lucina smacked her.

“Shh,” Say’ri hissed.

Their beams passed over the cracked stone floor, sweeping over sickly weeds poking up through fissures in the tile. The space almost seemed bigger on the inside. It was a massive central chamber, the far wall caved in in a pile of rubble and debris. The debris half-covered what looked to be an altar. Tiki approached first, cautiously stepping over rubble and rock. Her boots tapped on the stone, echoing softly.

Lucina veered to the side, sweeping her flashlight beam over what seemed to be the congregational worship area. Rather than pews or benches, like a standard church,  there was just floor – the stone was raised in places, presumably for kneeling. She bent down and tugged at something lodged in the stone. A scrap of fabric, it looked like.

Severa clung to her side, trying to appear less scared than she was and doing a poor job of it. “Don’t touch anything!” she whispered to Lucina.

Tiki and Say’ri approached the altar together, their combined headlamps illuminating the span of the sanctuary. Steps led up to the altar, which was stone slab adorned with the same carvings that decorated the outside of the temple. Beyond the altar, pressed against the wall, a massive stone face poked out from the pile of collapsed rubble. Say’ri stepped towards it.

Tiki reached out a sleeved arm and wiped it across the altar, wiping the dust from it. The stone was dark in places, almost stained. She stared at the altar top. The table itself.

The temple felt silent and still. There was no sound. Even beyond the entrance, if birds were chirping their calls were muted. The only sound at all was the scratching of the four intruders. Lucina, picking at the floor. Severa, loudly stomping around with the subtlety of a bull. Tiki, brushing off the altar. Say’ri, removing loose stones, trying to uncover more of the massive stone carving half-buried in rubble.

All four of them conducting their silent investigations, their attentions fixed on what was before them.

 

-

 

Noire lay in bed on her side, staring at her hands. She had managed to bandage them up, though she didn’t have any medicine, nor was she willing to ask her mother for any. Tharja had been angry enough about the mess in the bathroom. Noire had spent the morning trying to scrub off the blood from the tile. At least the vomit cleaned up easily.

Her hands trembled. They still hurt, though the itching had thankfully stopped. Now it was just regular old pain – the burned and scratched flesh. The bandages on the tops of her hands were tinted with red stains. She hadn’t managed to make them tight enough to stanch the blood, so now they were more of a method of containment.

She tried to slow her breathing. It wasn’t the first time she had done her own first-aid, but the added difficulty of only being able to use one hand at a time was infuriating. In a fit of frustration, she had punched her bed frame, only adding to the pain. She wished Severa was here.

No, she decided. She wished she was with Severa. She knew she couldn’t have gone, though. She was too weak, too sluggish, too everything. Her anemia made such a journey nearly impossible. She buried her face in her pillow.

It hurt to do anything but rest her hands, so she had settled on napping. But she had spent all day napping, and now she felt restless. She rolled over, trying to sit up without using her hands. It was a struggle, and she fell into her pillow twice before managing it.

The house was quiet. Her mother was gone, unsurprisingly. She had made it abundantly clear that Noire was to make sure the house was spotless by the time she returned, but she had left in the morning and still wasn’t back. With a trembling hand, Noire grasped the fridge handle.

Getting food was a nearly herculean effort, but she managed to get herself some reheated takeout. She sat down in the living room to eat.

No TV this time, she thought.

There was a knock at the door. She frowned. Maybe they would go away.

Another knock, louder this time. She jumped with a soft “eep!”

She slowly got up and crossed to the door, still not saying anything. She poked her head under the curtains, trying to get a look at whoever was on the porch. No luck.

Another knock.

She pressed her face to the peephole.

The porch was empty, as was the street. She let out a sigh.

The phone rang, almost causing her to jump out of her skin. She yelped, smacking her hand on the door, which sent pain shooting through her arm. She grabbed her hand instinctively, sparking pain in her other hand, too. She stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, whimpering as she landed on her injured hands.

The phone was still ringing.

She managed to pull herself into the kitchen, where she grabbed the fridge handle and hauled herself to her feet.

“H-hello?” she whimpered into the receiver. “Hello?”

“Oh!” the voice on the other end was bright, cheery, and somewhat surprised. “Good, this is your number! Uh…I think. Is this Noire?”

“Y-yes?” Noire said. She looked at the phone with suspicion.

“Hey, cool. It’s Inigo, from school. Are you busy right now?”

Noire looked at her half-finished reheated takeout. “N…not really,” she admitted.

“Great. Would you be able to stop by my place later? I know Luci and Sevvy are busy with their thing, but we’re trying to get as many of us together as we can. I think I have an idea.”

“Um…” Noire actively resisted the urge to fidget with the phone cord. “Uh…I…I don’t think I can go,” she said softly. She didn’t know how her mother would react. Sometimes she barely noticed when Noire was gone, but other times she kept a close eye on her.

“Uh, okay. Well, I guess we can catch you up on Monday?”

Noire nodded. “Yeah. T-thanks, Inigo.”

“Yeah, no problem. Hey, if you talk to Severa tonight, can you tell her to tell Luci I said hi?”

“Okay.”

“Great, thanks! See you later!”

The line shut off with a click. Noire let the phone dangle on the cord.

 

-

 

Inigo cleared his throat. “Okay, thanks for coming, everyone.” His apartment suddenly felt very small, crowded with densely packed teenagers.

“Uh…so…we were at the arcade, and I had a thought, and I’ve been thinking about it and turned it into a theory of sorts. So Owain and Nah and I were playing Gautlet, and-“

“Ooh, that game’s fun,” Morgan interrupted. Marc swiped at her.

“Yeah,” Inigo nodded. “But…so, the bad guys in that come from these little things called generators, right? So they don’t just show up out of nowhere.”

“Is this theory that the hooded man doesn’t just appear out of thin air?” Laurent asked, frowning.

“No, no,” Inigo assured him. “Listen, I was thinking about how...okay, so in Gauntlet, what can happen is that you step on a trap tile, and that changes the layout of the walls and lets the bad guys come get you, right?”

Nah spoke up. “You’re describing a trigger.”

Inigo nodded. “Yeah. Like…something that happens that enables weird things to happen _here_ ,” he said, pointing to the floor. He winced, knowing that was probably the least eloquent sentence he had said in his life.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath. “Like this. We know that things happen that indicate the appearance of the hooded man, right? Like, Luci gets headaches, technology starts acting all wonky, sometimes we see things. What if that’s the indication of something happening – the walls changing, I mean. Remember, Lucina said that the Grimleal worshipped a thing that comes from another world. So…maybe something is happening that is the trigger. Like, something happens, the walls shift, and then the hooded man slips through. When the trigger resets, he vanishes until the next time.”

“Like Death,” Nah said. “I mean, in Gauntlet.”

Inigo nodded. “Yeah, exactly. And what if…” he took a deep breath. “What if the kidnapping victims are meant to be sacrifices that are used as the trigger?”

There was a murmur of discussion among the gathered crowd. Marc was the first to speak up. “So you don’t think the hooded man is the kidnapper, but he’s what the kidnappers are trying to bring into our world?”

“I don’t know,” Inigo admitted. “I think we can all agree that he certainly doesn’t seem human.”

A murmur of agreement.

“So…if the hooded man isn’t the kidnapper, who is?”

Inigo frowned. “Well, that’s the problem with my theory. I have no idea. It could be anyone. Just a regular person.”

“It could even be another kid,” Morgan suggested. “An older one, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

Nah crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. “Inigo, I think you might be right, but I want to tweak your theory a little bit.”

“Shoot,” Inigo nodded.

“I think the victims are used for triggers, like you said, but I think the hooded man is the kidnapper. He activates the triggers…” Nah thought through each step of her sentence before speaking. “He activates the triggers, then…the walls shift. We can see the walls shift when things happen – the technology stuff. Then…” she trailed off. “I don’t think we’ve seen the enemies yet.”

Laurent nodded. “Perhaps the walls need to be arranged properly. In this…video game, the walls only need to be arranged on a two-dimensional plane. For a bad guy to get you, it just needs a single avenue of movement – a line between you and it. In the real world, there are three dimensions. If we’re talking about another world, that adds at least a fourth dimension – though it’s possible that number would double. Three dimensions in each world, and maybe one more each for crossing between worlds. With each sacrifice, perhaps the hooded man gets closer to arranging the walls properly.”

Inigo nodded, secretly relieved that his crazy theory was holding at least some ground.

“Yeah, but do you have any proof?” Cynthia asked, sitting up. “Or is this just a wild guess?”

“Uh…” Inigo stumbled. “It’s a guess, but it makes sense, right?”

“She’s right,” Nah pointed out. “It’s a solid theory, but we need some sort of proof.”

 

-

 

“Nothing,” Say’ri muttered, kicking the pile of rubble.

Tiki was crouched in front of the altar still, poring over the intricate inscriptions. “Speak for yourself, dear. This is more information that I could have possibly hoped for.”

“So have you actually found something?” Lucina asked, approaching the altar.

Tiki nodded. “This confirms my suspicions that the Grimleal draw their worship practices from Forneus’ journals. This inscription around the altar almost directly cites some of his words, as well as indicating the general process for contacting the…ah…the monster.”

“Do the Grimleal have a name for it?” Lucina asked. “I can’t imagine they’d call their god the devil.”

Tiki nodded. “Grima,” she said, leaning across the bottom of the altar. She was flipping her headlamp rapidly back and forth between her notebook and the inscriptions in the stone.

“It looks like no one’s used this place in years,” Severa remarked from several yards away. She kicked a stone and it rattled across the floor, echoing. The stone came to a stop against a side wall of the temple. “It’s all dusty still.”

Say’ri nodded in agreement. “This may confirm that the Grimleal were here, but it does little to help our current predicament,” she remarked.

“Maybe,” Tiki said. She stood up and set her notebook on the altar, puffing up a cloud of dust. She examined the notes she scribbled.

“What did it say?” Lucina asked eagerly. “Something useful, right?”

Tiki nodded. “The inscription around the table indicate parts of the worship process – calling for the spilling of blood and so forth.”

Lucina grimaced. “Does it say how they used the blood?”

Tiki stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Not specifically, but…hm.” She paused. “I believe the blood if used as a conduit between our world and the other world. Like how water conducts electricity, blood conducts spirit energy. The more blood, the better the conduit.”

“So…what would a whole body’s worth get you?”

Tiki shrugged. “I know not. Nor do I know what that is,” she said, pointing to the massive stone face. “Perhaps a depiction of Forneus, or an anthropomorphized Grima?” She made a quick sketch.

“Uh…guys?” Severa called out from the side of the chamber. “Guys?”

“What?” Lucina snapped, turning.

Severa was turned back towards the entrance, the glowing rectangle of light which led to the outside. There was a shape in the door, a dark silhouette.

Lucina’s heart sunk. A blast of pain struck her head and she doubled over, faceplanting into the stone. “Agh!” she cried out.

“Lucina!” Say’ri rushed to her side.

The figure loomed in the entrance, dark and imposing. Its features were obscured by shadow, but the motion of flowing robes was unmistakable.

“You bastard!” Severa roared. She snatched up Say’ri’s machete and drew it, charging at the figure standing in the rectangle of light. She swung with all her might and the blade connected with the side of the figure’s face.

The blade snapped.

Severa stumbled backwards, staring in shock. Underneath the hood, finally at an angle she could see, was an expressionless stone mask. Two eyeholes were cut out, but into each cheek was carved additional ornamental eyes.

The figure lifted both hands. In one it held an open book.

The ground shook with a violent ferocity, sending all of them sprawling to the ground. Severa tripped backwards and caught herself, staggering to her feet. “Fuck you!” she shouted, her voice lost in the roar of crumbling stone. She charged again, ready to hit him with the mangled hilt of the machete.

With a crack and a crash, the front of the temple collapsed entirely, plunging the chamber into darkness.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update woo
> 
> Uhh also I changed around some of the tags to more accurately reflect the content of the fic thus far, but all of it still remains subject to change!

Lucina was curled on the ground in a fetal position, still clutching her head. Severa stumbled over to her, hacking up a lungful of dust. “Lu-ack! Luci!” she coughed again, kneeling at her sister’s side.

Lucina uncurled slowly, wincing. “Ah…” she muttered. “I’m…I’m okay.”

“You might be,” Say’ri called from the collapsed entrance. “But I think we all might be in a bit of trouble.”

Severa helped Lucina sit up. “We have food though, right?” Lucina asked.

Say’ri shook her head. “No, we left our packs outside. Shit.” She kicked a rock.

“It’s okay,” Lucina said weakly. Her headache was fading slowly. “We can look for a way out, right?”

“We will,” Tiki said, touching her shoulder. “Just rest.”

Tiki, Say’ri, and Severa all set to work scanning the walls of the temple, looking for anything that could help them get out. The collapsed entrance was out – the rubble was packed too tightly for them to dig themselves out of.

Severa was the first to spot something. The transept which had formed the arms of the temple had collapsed on both sides. Severa was standing at the foot of a pile of the destroyed wall. “Guys!” she called again. “Come here!”

She pointed up.

At the top of the pile of rubble was a hole. The crumbled wall and stone had left enough of a gap to create a crawlspace, just big enough for a person to pass through.

“Severa, do you think you could fit through that gap?” Say’ri asked her. The way she looked at Severa made her nervous, as if she was mentally comparing her body to the crawlspace.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m putting my foot down. I am NOT doing that.”

“I’m out,” Lucina coughed from her sitting position. “And they certainly won’t fit. Don’t go through it, just climb up and see what’s there.”

“Stupid,” Severa muttered as she scrambled up the loose stone pile. She placed a foot on a chunk that immediately gave way, sliding to the ground in a shower of dust. “Fuck!” she shouted, grabbing another stone for stability. “Fuck you guys!”

Say’ri looked at Lucina. “Let her have this,” Lucina smirked.

Severa made it to the top with relatively little difficulty. She crouched at the opening’s entrance, looking back down at her companions. She was suddenly, sickeningly aware of how high she had climbed. Only maybe twenty feet, but enough to make her clutch the stones frantically. “Stupid,” she breathed again.

“What do you see?” Lucina called up to her.

“Gimme a fuckin’ second!” Severa snapped, sticking her head into the opening. She reached an arm through and shone her flashlight around the opening.

The beam swept over the side of the transept, passing over a cluster of old dusty tables. She called out a report as she looked.

“Some tables…uh…a buncha books, it looks like?” she coughed, inhaling more dust.

“Books?” Tiki called up.

“Yeah,” Severa said, covering her mouth with her arm and coughing again. “You wanna go get ‘em, be my guest.” She stifled her cough. “Wait a second…” she leaned forward again and crawled through the opening, loosening several stones.

“Hey, be careful!” Lucina called.

“Uhuh,” Severa said half-heartedly. “Hey, Luci, uh…if I die, give all my shit to Noire, okay?”

“What?” Lucina asked.

Severa vanished into the opening.

She arrived at the bottom of the rubble pile with an unpleasant crunch, skidding to a painful halt at the foot of a half-broken table. She winced and got to her feet, dusting herself off. “Shit,” she muttered, instantly regretting her decision.

“Can you guys still hear me?” she called.

A muffled response slipped through the opening. She groaned. “Fuck,” she swore again. “Fuck.”

She tightened her grip on her flashlight and walked forward, towards what she had been so intrigued by in the first place. A pile of something in the far corner of the room.

She had been right, though dear god did she wish she had been mistaken.

It was a pile of stacked bones. They were neatly arranged, more the product of ritualistic organization than haphazard slaughter. Femurs stacked on femurs, humerus bones stacked on humerus bones. She clutched her stomach and tried to stop herself from throwing up.

“’Just a couple of disappearances’, my ass,” she muttered, trying to get a grip on her innards. She didn’t know much about the human body, but she could count the skulls. She hit fifteen before she stopped, forcing herself to turn away. It was sickening, and she couldn’t help but think about Gerome. Every single one of these skulls was another instance what she had gone through over him – the fear, the panic, the grieving.

She managed to stifle another bout of nausea. Her flashlight swung wildly over the bone pile, passing back and forth between it and the tables covered with faded volumes. She was determined to get something out of this trip other than misery.

On the other side of the rubble pile, Tiki was surprised to find herself nearly clobbered by a flying book. It hit the ground with a thud. Another book followed soon after, tossed through the opening in the rubble pile by Severa.

“Got some books for you!” she called. “Don’t think they’ll mind if you can’t pay the late fees.” She tossed another one down. It landed spine-first on the stone and cracked.

“Please, Miss Severa,” Tiki chastised her. “These books are quite old. Can you perhaps treat them with a little more caution?”

Severa scrambled up the pile and climbed through the opening, sliding down to rejoin her companions with a third book. “The rest were all doubles of these,” she explained. “Most of them were this book,” she said, handing it to Tiki.

Tiki shone her headlamp beam onto the book. It was another copy of the very same book she had spent the past two weeks decoding. “The Book of the Fellblood,” she breathed, the exhale puffing dust from the cover. “There are multiple copies in there, you say?”

Severa nodded. “Yeah, a bunch.”

“It’s like their Bible,” Lucina remarked. She helped Severa dust off.

Tiki nodded. “Well, perhaps this venture wasn’t entirely fruitless after all.”

“Hey Sevvy,” Lucina said. “You didn’t happen to see a way out in there, did you?”

Severa shook her head. “I don’t think so. Just a buncha bones.”

“What?” Say’ri took a step forward.

“Yeah, a bunch of stacked up bones. Probably from all the sacrifices, right?”

“Were any of them recent?”

Severa shook her head. “I dunno, they were all pretty dusty.”

Say’ri frowned. “So that’s no help to us at all.”

Lucina scooted towards the altar sluggishly. “Hey, guys, I’m not feeling great, so I’m going to take a nap, if that’s okay. I’m not a ton of help to you anyway right now, so…”

Tiki nodded. “We should all get some rest and take time to think about our options. To conserve batteries, let’s only use one light at a time.”

The four of them gathered around the altar, each leaning against it and trying not to think too hard about their current surroundings. Within a few minutes, Lucina was snoozing softly.

 

-

 

“I have a confession to make,” Tiki said softly. Say’ri lifted her head off Tiki’s shoulder and frowned.

“I…” Tiki turned her face towards the floor guiltily. “I…I may be responsible for our current predicament.”

“What?” Lucina sat up. “What do you mean? It was the hooded man.”

Tiki shook her head. “I couldn’t resist. I…I cut my finger and touched some of the blood against the table.”

“What?” Say’ri snapped. “Are you serious?! After all you said about the dragon blood, you-“

“I know,” Tiki said somberly. “I…I had to know. I had to know if it worked.”

“If _what_ worked?” Severa glared at her.

“The Dragon’s Table,” Tiki said. “It’s…it’s an altar of sacrifice, a lock for which the key is blood. I needed to know if it truly worked.”

“So what?” Severa folded her arms over her chest. “You summoned that guy here?”

Tiki frowned. “Perhaps. But one thing is for sure – there is another table somewhere. Somewhere nearby. There must be, or else he couldn’t manifest, since this table is unused.”

“Manifest?” Lucina asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Grima cannot take mortal form without aid. For now. For him to take shape, the form of the hooded man, he needs blood. Dragon blood would be the most powerful…but I didn’t realize how powerful. It was almost instantaneous.” Her voice was practically full of wonder. “Incredible.”

“So regular human blood doesn’t work as well?” Lucina asked.

Tiki nodded. “He needs more from humans – enough to kill the donor. With enough blood, he can manifest – he can cross into our world, though he cannot yet take his true shape. But with my blood, and perhaps…” she looked at Lucina.

Severa shook her head. “No. We are not using Luci’s blood for _anything_.”

“What about yours?” Tiki asked. “You, too, have the exalted blood within you, do you not? The divine blood of Naga?”

Severa gaped at her. “Did something happen to you while I wasn’t paying attention? What the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

“Language, Severa,” Lucina remarked wearily.

“No, fuck that!” she shouted. “We’re only fucking stuck here because of her!” She pointed at Tiki. “She made us spend all our fucking money, come all the way up this goddamn mountain, and now she’s gotten us trapped! And for what?! To get some lousy books!” Severa snatched one of Tiki’s books and hurled it into the darkness. The pages fluttered loudly in the void.

Lucina grabbed her. “Hey!” she barked. “Calm down!”

“Calm down?!” Severa scoffed. “We’re going to die here! No one even knows where we are!”

“Someone smart enough could figure it out!” Lucina protested.

“Oh? You mean figure out the puzzle that the resident genius took two fucking straight weeks to solve? Is that what you mean? Or maybe you mean someone else could just learn an extinct language and translate just the right book to point them in the right direction!” Severa felt like she needed to scream. So she did.

“FUCK!” she shouted into the empty darkness. “FUCK! FUCK YOU! FUCKER!” she lashed out, kicking thin air and sending herself sprawling. She collapsed face-first into the dust, blinking back tears.

Lucina picked her up and pulled her into an embrace.

“We’re going to die here,” Severa muttered into her shoulder.

“No we’re not,” Lucina stroked her hair. “We’re going to get out of this. I promise.”

 

-

 

Severa dozed, half-asleep on Lucina’s shoulder. Her stomach growled. Tiki was asleep despite the book open in her lap, as evidenced by soft snoring, and Lucina kept twitching, jolting awake at just the last moment before sleep overtook her.

“Can you stay still,” Severa mumbled.

“Mm…” Lucina said noncommittally.

Say’ri paced the temple’s walls, headlamp strapped to her forehead, casting a beam of white light along the cracked stone. There had to be something. Anything.

“How did he do that?” Lucina asked halfheartedly.

“What?” Severa blinked, sitting up.

“How did he blow up the entrance?”

“I don’t…” Severa tried to remember. “He…” She frowned. _How did he?_

The book.

Severa sat up. “He was holding a book.”

Lucina looked at her inquisitively.

“He…he opened it and touched the pages, and then the walls collapsed.”

“You make it sound like it was a magic tome,” Say’ri said, returning to the altar and adjusting her lamp.

“Well…” Severa braced herself for the stupidity of her statement. “Maybe it was. I mean, Tiki could bring that guy here with blood, right? That’s no more far-fetched than a magic book.”

Tiki woke up slowly, smacking her lips. “Mm? Did something happen?”

Say’ri sat next to her. “No such luck. I couldn’t find anything. Some cracks in the wall, but unless we have something with some real power behind it…” She kicked her feet out and leaned back. “Nothing in those books, I’m guessing?”

Tiki frowned. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Severa growled.

“Severa, please…” Lucina said quietly.

“I haven’t understood a god damn word she’s said all day. And every time she opens her mouth, it’s just more bullshit!”

“Severa!” Lucina snapped. “Apologize! Right now!”

“I’ll apologize when she gets us out of here!” Severa snarled. “I’ll kiss her fuckin’ boots, I promise you that.”

“Caves,” Tiki said matter-of-factly.

“What?” Severa glared at her.

“Caves. There’s a system of caves that runs throughout the entire mountain range. Even so far as to go underneath sections of Ylisse.”

Severa let out a huff. “So?”

“This temple connected to the caves. At least…it used to. I know not if it still does.” Tiki closed her book with deliberation, giving herself a moment to think. “We wouldn’t be out of the woods, so to speak. But if we can find a connection to the caves, we could potentially make our way out by finding one of the many other exits. If I remember correctly, the network of caverns had entrances and exits all over the mountainside.”

Lucina let out a sigh of relief. “Finally some good news.”

Tiki opened her book again. “This book makes mention of several temples. This appears to be the primary one, but other sacrifice grounds were located at other exits from the cave. The Grimleal likely believed their god resided in the depths of the mountain.” She set a finger on a reproduction of a map – not detailed enough to actually tell them anything, but enough to communicate the existence of multiple shrines.

Say’ri got to her feet. “Well, let’s get looking then. We’re burning battery light.”

 

-

 

Severa growled, grinding her teeth in frustration as she scrambled back up the rubble pile. She had been so bothered by the bones that she hadn’t made a real effort to search the area, and now she was tasked with checking again.

_Stupid Tiki_ , she griped to herself. _Getting us into this shit._

She slid down the far side of the rubble pile with more elegance this time, only briefly catching as her tailbone hit a piece of protruding stone, which drew a shouted profanity. She grasped her lower back as she limped forward, scanning the walls.

No dice. Save for some ornamental paintings and a few tattered banners, the walls were nothing but bare stone. She began to check under the tables, sliding chairs around with screeching groans. She winced at the sound of wood on stone.

Nothing. She growled and kicked out, her foot passing with ease through an old rotted chair, snapping it. Her eyes wandered past the broken chair and settled on the pile of bones again. She took a breath before approaching. It wasn’t going to smell or anything, but it made her uncomfortable. The thought of breathing in old dead people dust made her nauseous.

And then she spotted it. She stared, daring to hope but trying not to. There, embedded in the stone floor, obscured by a fine layer of dust making it the same monochromatic shade of gray as everything else. A trapdoor.

 

-

 

Say’ri was first into the hole, dropping down and landing with a heavy thump on the slick stone of the passage beneath the church. She looked up, shining her headlamp up at the open trap door, her light illuminating six eyes staring back at her. She swept the beam around the landing zone, watching it pass over walls of chipped, eroded limestone. “Looks clear,” she said.

Lucina was next, followed by Severa and then finally Tiki, who left the trap door open. Only Tiki and Say’ri had their lights on, to illuminate the path ahead and the path beneath their feet. Their boots tramped over a trail of jagged stone as they walked, the path taking them away from the church. Lucina tried to keep track of the time as they walked, first counting her steps, then trying to simply keep track of where she thought they were relative to the church. She hit almost a thousand steps before she lost count and gave up.

Tiki checked their backs periodically, in a way that made Lucina nervous.

“Expecting company?” she asked after one such check.

Tiki shook her head. “No, just making sure.”

“Making sure of…?” Lucina frowned but let it go.

 Say’ri stopped suddenly, causing Lucina to bump into her then Severa into her.

“Hey, what gives?” Severa asked.

“Do you feel that?”

Lucina held her breath and shook her head.

“A breeze!” Say’ri took off, jogging through the tunnel, almost breaking into a sprint, heedless of her hungry and weary companions. 

“H-hey!” Lucina shouted after her, breaking into a slightly slower, more dogged sprint. Severa and Tiki lagged behind, both too tired to keep up with their exuberant companions.

“Not too fast, dear!” Tiki called softly into the darkness ahead of them. Severa frowned, listening to the pattering of footsteps echoing around the stone. She tried to track the sounds but the echoes made it difficult. She stopped and rested her hands on her knees, out of breath.

“Severa,” Tiki said quietly.

“Yeah?” Severa stood up and wiped her mouth.

“I just wanted to apologize,” Tiki said somberly as they continued to walk. “Say’ri often says I can be difficult, and I…I did not think of my companions before acting. I thought of myself and my own curiosity first. And for that, I truly apologize.”

“No, don’t worry,” Severa waved her off. “I was super shitty. You didn’t deserve that.” She paused for a minute. “Okay, maybe you _did_ deserve it, but I’m sorry too, okay? No harm, no foul?”

Tiki chuckled. “If you would forgive me, then of course. There is nothing for me to forgive.”

Severa rolled her eyes. Always so polite. “Anyway, where the hell did Say’ri and my sister get off to?”

Tiki looked around, her flashlight illuminating a wide stretch of empty cave.

 Suddenly, a figure lunged through the dark. Lucina leapt at them, excited. “Come on, it’s just ahead!” She grabbed Severa’s arm and tugged her forward into a run. Tiki followed behind.

Severa had never been so glad to see the night sky. The cave terminated in a crack in a rocky face on the mountainside, spilling them out into a dense thicket of trees and tangled bushes. Overhead, the dark twilight sky was speckled with points of white light.

It even smelled good to Severa. The breeze carried with it the scent of dead leaves, of fallen pine needles, of autumnal night. But it wasn’t dust, nor was it rotted wood, nor stone. It was nature. Pure, natural air. She collapsed to her knees in the dirt, relief flooding into her.

Lucina stood next to her, doubled over, laughing. “See? See! Told you we wouldn’t die in there!”

“Y-yeah,” Severa said, trying not to cry. “You said it.”

For her part, Tiki simply stared up at the sky, lost in thought.

“Alright, everyone,” Say’ri said, pushing past a tangle of bushes. “We need to make our way back to the temple where our gear is. We can set up the tent and stay the night. It’s too dangerous to try and hike back down.”

Severa and Lucina nodded.

“Fuck,” Severa said. “Mom and dad are gonna be _pissed_.”

 

-

 

Morgan and Marc lay on the carpet in front of the TV, staring at the bright colors and blaring sounds emanating from the screen. The living room around them was dark, the lights off and the curtains drawn. The only light in the room other than the TV came from the ambient glow of the kitchen light down the hall.

Morgan tapped the buttons on her controller frantically. “Come on, come on!” she yanked the controller to the side, as if the motion would give her on-screen avatar the extra oomph needed to clear the jump. “Ah, shit,” she said, listening to the Game Over chime playing.

“You only have one life left, don’t you?” Marc asked, reaching forward and fishing a fistful of popcorn out of a plastic bowl.

“Yeah,” Morgan mimicked his motion, getting her own snack. “You have like six, can’t you give me some?”

Marc chewed thoughtfully before deciding against it.

“So what do you think?” Morgan asked as she watched Marc deftly navigate the level.

“Huh? No, you can get your own lives.”

“Not about that, you dolt,” Morgan smacked his shoulder. “About Inigo’s theory? About the kidnappings.”

Marc made a noncommittal grunt and reached for another bit of popcorn. He chewed thoughtfully and continued playing before finally speaking.

“I think he might be onto something.”

“Really?”

Marc nodded. “The way I see it,” he sat up. “Is that they’re trying to connect too many pieces. I think he might be right, but I don’t think it’s all as linked as he says it is.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I think they’re just kidnapping people to sacrifice them. None of this dimensional travel stuff, just a regular ol’ wacko. A dude in a robe kidnapping kids to kill them for a god or whatever. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But it’s weird, right?” Morgan took her turn, pausing her speech to focus on playing the game. She managed to complete an entire level in one go before speaking again. “The weird shit that’s happening. What about all that?”

Marc shrugged. “I think everyone’s just grasping for answers and latching onto whatever they can find. Like, phones are always weird, right? The only reason anyone’s paying attention to like, signal interference or tape player malfunctions is the context of all this other stuff.”

“Then what about the Devil Dragon?”

“Hm? It’s fake, of course.”

“How can you explain people seeing it? And it was in all those old books! It’s weirdly common, right?”

“Yeah, so is the Loch Ness monster.”

Morgan pouted. “I just don’t think we should zero in on the easiest solution like that.”

Marc shrugged. “I dunno. I agree with Inigo that it’s someone kidnapping people to kill them. Everything else is just extra.”

“Ugh…whatever,” Morgan grumbled, fishing out another handful of popcorn. “So you just think it’s some dude? Just any old person off the street?”

At that moment the door burst open and their father stumbled in. His hair was mussed and wild and he was pressing a hand to his face.

“Dad?!” Morgan sprang to her feet, Marc not far behind.

“Kids?” Robin asked, shutting the front door behind him. He spoke with a slight hiss, as if the effort pained him. “What are you doing up?”

“We were waiting for you,” Marc said. “You said you’d be home for dinner.”

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, making his way towards the kitchen. “I lost track of time.”

“D-Dad?”  Morgan called after him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, opening the fridge and withdrawing an icepack. He pressed it to his cheek. In the split second of motion, Morgan could see a dark purple bruise spreading across the side of his face.

“What happened to your face?” Marc asked.

“Some jerk on main street cut me off,” Robin explained, switching hands to hold the icepack against his face. “I had to jam on the brakes and ended up hitting my face on the steering wheel.” He winced. “I’m fine. It’s late, you two should be in bed.”

 

-

 

Severa tried to adjust in her sleeping bag, never quite getting comfortable. The night seems so silent until you try and sleep outside, she thought wryly. Beside her, Lucina had no trouble knocking out. And beside her, Say’ri and Tiki lay together, arms tangled around each other, both snoozing quietly.

Severa sat up, groaning. She laid down again. Rolled over. Rolled again. Thrashed wildly, frustrated. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get comfortable. She could feel the hard ground beneath her, even through the floor of the tent and the thickness of her sleeping bag.

She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep. She could hear so much, it seemed. The rustle of leaves in the breeze. Lucina’s gentle breathing, Tiki’s snoring. The occasional shuffling sound as someone readjusted. Say’ri mumbling quietly. The wind fluttering the tent cover. The flap of bat wings. The distant hooting of an owl. Somewhere, far away, the cry of a wolf.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the hooded figure. The mask with six eyes. She wrapped her arms around her head and squeezed herself tight. It was going to be another long night.


	21. October 9th, 2:14 PM

“Fuck me,” Severa swore, rolling her window down to get a clearer picture of the three police cruisers parked along the street in front of their house.

“Language, Severa,” Lucina said dryly. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots, dreading the confrontation ahead. The hike down had been pleasant, if a little difficult with stiff muscles and sore limbs. It had taken some time to find their way back to the trail, then back to the car, and then they stopped for lunch, and…

She closed her eyes wearily. They were going to be furious, that’s for sure.

“We can come in with you,” Tiki offered. “We are, after all, at fault. Perhaps having an adult would-“

Severa shook her head. “Nah, I don’t want you guys to get in trouble. Or to get charged with kidnapping or something.” She fussed with her backpack on her lap nervously, her actions betraying her apparent coolness about the whole situation.

It was a moot point. As Say’ri pulled the car against the curb, the front door of their house swung open dramatically.

Cordelia was first out the door, her face a mask of puffy eyes and concern. Chrom followed not far behind, and then behind him came Chief Basilio and a couple of patrol officers.

“Shit. Here we go.” Severa pulled the latch on her door and climbed out, letting her backpack fall to the edge of manicured grass against the curb. She lifted her hand as she looked up, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Before she could even get a handle on what was happening, Cordelia had nearly tackled her, throwing her arms around her. She sobbed into her shoulder.

“Oh, thank god!” Cordelia gasped, her arms wrapped tightly around her daughter. “Thank god you’re alright!” She let go, holding Severa at arm’s length. “Wait…where’s Lucina?”

Lucina popped her head up from the other side of the car, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, mom. Hey d-” Before she managed to finish the second greeting Chrom had thrown his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

He squeezed tightly. “Are you two alright? Did anything happen?”

Lucina smiled sheepishly. “We’re fine,” she insisted, wincing as she watched her mother checking Severa from head to toe to make sure she was unscathed.

“I’m fine, mom! I promise! Nothing happened!” Severa protested, trying in vain to push her mother away. “It’s not a big deal.”

Chief Basilio was the next to arrive. “Are you kids alright?”

“GOD!” Severa shouted angrily, still trying to extricate herself from her mother’s foreceful grip. “Did everyone lose their hearing while we were gone?”

Lucina laughed and turned to her father. Her laugh evaporated when she saw his face.

“So the two of you are alright?” he asked sternly.

“Y-yeah,” Lucina said nervously.

Chrom glared, his fury focused on her then shifting to her sister. “The two of you are grounded. For real. No clubs, no activities, no visitors. Until this blows over, you are not to leave the house without your mother or I supervising.”

“DAD!” Severa immediately protested, still in Cordelia’s arms. She let go of her daughter and crossed her arms.

The car doors opened again, and Tiki and Say’ri emerged into the afternoon sun, their presence throwing an additional layer of confusion over the scene.

“And who are you two?” Chief Basilio asked, unwilling to dip his toes into the family drama.

“My name is Tiki,” Tiki said softly. “And this is my wife, Say’ri. We work at the library.”

“Were you two at the _library_ this whole time?” Chief Basilio asked incredulously.

“No!” Lucina hastily explained. “W-we left a note! Didn’t you read it?”

Chrom frowned and reached into his pocket to withdraw the note. He held it up angrily. “You said you needed to go somewhere with the librarian. And you left a phone number that connected to an answering machine. Do you think that was a sufficient explanation?!”

Lucina winced, unused to being on the receiving end of her father’s harsh voice. He could be rather imposing when he wanted to, and now he was bringing down the full force of his statesman persona onto the two of them.

Basilio butted in. “Well, since the girls have come back safe and sound, I think we’ll take our leave.” He turned to the other officers who nodded, eager to avoid involvement in the domestic spat. “If you learn anything, please come visit us down at the station,” he said. And with that the officers loaded back into their cars and drove off, leaving behind Say’ri, Tiki, and two girls guiltily cowering in the face of their angry parents.

“And you two,” Chrom turned to the girls’ ‘chaperones’. “What the hell did you think you were doing?!” he shouted.

“Please, Chrom,” Cordelia said, touching his arm softly and looking nervously at the neighboring houses, praying no one could hear. “Perhaps we should go inside.”

“Perhaps these two ‘adults’,” Chrom snapped with disdain, “can explain what they were doing with our daughters! We’ve been worried sick! The police had been here all day, and neither your mother nor I got any sleep! What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“D-dad, it’s not their fault,” Lucina said, stepping in front of Tiki. She held her arms up, as if her slender form could block the sound of his anger. “It was Severa and me. Don’t blame them.”

“Oh, I know it was your fault,” Chrom shouted. “But it was theirs too! The way I see it, you’re all responsible.”

Tiki pushed Lucina aside gently. “Please, sir,” she said politely. “It was my idea. Your daughters were victims of my own enthusiasm. I suggested that they come on a research trip with me. In fact, suggest might be too light a word.”

Say’ri nodded and took her place at Tiki’s side, her own ferocious glare possibly the only one who could perhaps match Chrom’s in intimidation. “It was my idea as well. My wife, bless her heart,” she gazed at Tiki with some degree of resignation, “was excited to embark on a field trip. We were not thinking when we insisted your daughters come along. We should have asked your permission first, but now we can do nothing but beg your forgiveness.”

Cordelia put her arm around his midsection and Chrom let out a sigh. He turned to his wife. “What do you think?”

 

-

 

“That sucks,” Inigo remarked. “So no chance of having any more meetings with everyone?”

Lucina grumbled, sifting through her locker and withdrawing a textbook. “Nope. Grounded for the foreseeable future. No leaving the house. Mom wanted to even drive us to and from school, but she’s too busy with work. So instead we have to have dad pick us up and take us home, then he has to go back to work. It’s stupid. Honestly, we’re lucky they aren’t pulling us out of school.”

“Jeez,” Inigo said. “You can’t even walk home?”

Lucina sighed and zipped up her backpack. “Nope.”

“Are you going to be able to go to homecoming still?” Inigo asked. “Or is everything off the table?”

Lucina raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Honestly, I had forgotten all about homecoming. That’s soon, isn’t it?”

Inigo nodded. “Y-yeah. I was kinda hoping, if you-“

“HEY!” Severa cut into the conversation, pushing Lucina aside. “Hey Inigo, have you seen Noire? I can’t find her.”

Inigo shook his head, half-relieved and half-annoyed. “No, sorry. I spoke to her on the phone on Saturday but haven’t heard from her since.”

Severa scowled. “Well then what use are you?!” She twirled around and stalked off, leaving Lucina somewhat bemused and Inigo somewhat flustered.

“You were saying?” Lucina asked, shaking her head.

“N-nothing!” Inigo said hastily.

 

-

 

Severa pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom violently before turning to scan the row of stalls. It was empty. She crouched, peering underneath the row of stall doors. Sometimes Noire came here to cry or whatever, and maybe…

Just as she expected, she spied a pair of familiar worn sneakers – presumably with feet and legs attached.

“Hey, kid,” Severa said, rapping her knuckles against the plastic stall door. “You okay?”

A mumble was her only response.

Severa sighed. “Noire, I know you’re in there. You doing okay?”

Another mumble, this time closer to a whimper.

Severa tried the door, rattling it on its hinges. “Can you open up?”

After a moment of silence she heard the bolt slide back and the door opened.

“Jesus, Noire,” Severa breathed, feeling her stomach drop.

Noire was sitting on the closed toilet lid, eyes puffy and hair mussed. A purple bruise marred her cheek. Both of her wrists and hands were wrapped in a thick layer of hastily-fixed bandages, some layers of which were tinged pinkish and others tinged brown. On her lap was an open notebook and a worksheet, which she was struggling to fill out. Her right hand gripped a pencil weakly, shaking as she tried to set it down.

“What happened?” Severa asked, kneeling in front of her. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Noire nodded and wiped her eyes. “I d-don’t know what happened,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Severa asked calmly. She gingerly reached out and took Noire’s notebook and pencil and set them next to her on the floor. She took one of Noire’s hands. “Is this okay? Does it hurt if I touch?”

Noire shook her head and blinked slowly. “It d-doesn’t hurt as much as it did before.”

Severa nodded and examined Noire’s bandage work somberly. “You didn’t do this to yourself, did you?”

Noire bowed her head. “I…I don’t know.”

Severa let out a disappointed sigh. “Noire, we talked about this. I told you-“

“No!” Noire protested. “It’s not like that. I know you told me not to anymore. But, I…” she withdrew her hand from Severa’s grasp. “I don’t know what happened. But now I can barely even write with them…”

Severa stood up. “Okay. Why don’t we get you to the nurse? I’ll come with you, okay?”

Noire shook her head and Severa furrowed her brow.

“Come on, Noire. I know you did these bandages yourself. A real doctor has to take a look.”

Noire shook her head but allowed Severa to pull her to her feet.

As they walked to the nurse, Severa tried to prod slightly. “So what happened?”

“I don’t really remember,” Noire said, squeezing Severa’s hand tightly and ignoring the pain it brought. Severa squeezed back and Noire winced.

“S-sorry,” Severa said. “Does that hurt?”

Noire shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“So you don’t remember how your hands got hurt?”

“I had just woken up,” Noire explained. “I h-had a nightmare, and when I woke up my hands were all itchy and I felt really sick. I asked my mom to take me to the doctor, but…”

“Itchy?”

Noire nodded. “Yeah. That’s what the bandages are for. I accidentally scraped a bunch of skin off I think, and they started bleeding.”

“Accidentally?”

“W-well, I mean, I did it intentionally, but I couldn’t really control myself. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t-“

“It’s okay. And your face?” Severa gestured to her bruised cheek.

“I…” Noire gingerly pressed a cautious finger into her cheek and winced. “I don’t remember. I must have hit the counter when I passed out.”

“Okay. Come on, we’ll get you fixed up,” Severa said, pushing open the door to the nurses’ office. “Aunt Lissa!” she called out loudly. “Aunt Lissa?”

“Oh!” Lissa said brightly, popping her head out from behind a corner. “Good morning, Severa. This is your first fight this semester, isn’t it?”

Severa scowled. “I didn’t get into a fight, Aunt Lissa! I’m not even hurt.”

“Oh,” Lissa said, walking forward to meet the girls. She almost seemed disappointed.

“Trust me, I don’t need to give my dad more reason to give me shit,” Severa said glumly. She let go of Noire’s hand and softly pushed her forward. “My friend Noire hurt her hands. Can you take a look?”

Lissa peered at the girl. “Your friend, huh.”

Severa closed her eyes. Lissa and her father were close. No doubt she had heard about the incident the other night… “Yeah, my friend,” she said impatiently. “Aren’t you a nurse? Shouldn’t you do your job?”

Lissa laughed. “I’m just teasing you, Severa.” She turned her attention to Noire. “Is it alright if I take a look?”

Noire nodded and held out her hands for Lissa to examine.

Lissa began delicately unwinding the bandages on Noire’s left hand. “So what happened?”

Noire explained again, starting with the nausea and itching and then explaining how she had accidentally hurt her hands before passing out. Lissa unwound the final wrapping of bandage and took Noire’s hand in her own. Her expression turned dark, her usually friendly demeanor suddenly serious.

Severa grimaced. It didn’t look good.

The backs of Noire’s hands were covered in large, jagged scrapes caked in a reddish brown layer of dried blood. The backs of both hands look inflamed and blistered, and as she stared Noire seemed to finally recognize the state her own hands were in. She began breathing quickly and trembling. Her hands shook, not letting Lissa get a good look at them.

“Noire, I know it’s painful, but you have to try and keep still so I can take a look. Did you disinfect the scrapes?”

Noire shook her head. “N-no, it was bleeding too much and by the time I got the bandages on I had forgotten.”

Lissa spoke calmly, hoping she could keep the poor girl from panicking. “When did this happen?”

“S-Saturday morning.”

Lissa sighed. “The cuts may be infected then, especially if you haven’t changed the bandages and cleaned the wounds. I can try and clean them, if you’d like.”

Noire nodded. The first bell for class rang, making her jump.

“It’s okay,” Lissa said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. “It’s just the bell. I can write you a note.” She turned to Severa. “You should get going though.”

Noire instinctively reached out to stop Severa from leaving. “W-wait.”

Severa sighed. “Noire, I have to get to class. Aunt Lissa will take care of you, and I can see you at lunch, okay?”

Noire turned to the nurse. “Can Severa stay?”

Lissa looked to Severa, who shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Rules are rules.”

Severa sighed.

“If you want to stop by at lunch and we can talk,” Lissa suggested. “But for now, you really ought to get going.”

 

-

 

“A B-minus?” Severa groaned, resting her forehead on the lunch table. “Mom’s gonna _kill_ me!”

“Yeah, apparently we spent a little too much time talking about…” Morgan squinted at the grading rubric. “Cultural topics rather than historic ones.” She shrugged. “I’m guessing she didn’t care for how much time we spent talking about monsters.”

Severa sat up and slouched back in her chair. “Stupid Ms. Miriel,” she grumbled.

Lucina was next to arrive, a big goofy grin plastered across her face. Severa sneered at her. “What’re _you_ so happy about?”

Lucina smiled and held up a paper ticket. Severa rolled her eyes. A homecoming ticket, of course. “Inigo ask you?” she said flatly.

“Yep,” Lucina said, tucking the paper back in her backpack. “He picked up his tickets a few days ago but had apparently been waiting to ask me.”

“Was it some grand gesture?” Morgan asked, leaning forward. “Or just, like…you know. Inigo.”

Lucina frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Morgan shrugged. “As much as that dude’s a hopeless romantic, he never struck me as one for dramatic gestures. Now, _Owain_ on the other hand…”

“So what about you?” Lucina asked, ignoring her. “You and Noire going to go?”

Severa shrugged. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, SHIT. Noire!” She stood up so suddenly that her chair was sent clattering to the floor. “Be right back!” she took off.

Lucina and Morgan made eye contact, then they each shrugged.

Severa bolted out of the cafeteria, dodging past students and faculty alike as she headed for the nurse’s office. She barreled through the door, nearly knocking over a teacher.

“Sorry!” she stammered. “Aunt Lissa! Aunt-“

“Shh!” a sharp hiss cut her off and she stumbled, almost colliding with a rack of educational pamphlets. “Severa, please be quiet. You can’t come in here shouting your head off all the time!”

“S-sorry, Aunt Lissa,” Severa gasped for breath. “N-Noire. Where is she?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Lissa said sternly. She set down a clipboard and gestured to Severa, taking her aside into the administrative portion of the nurse’s office.

Severa followed dutifully, still catching her breath. She felt tense, though she couldn’t place why. Something about Lissa’s demeanor seemed different, even from the morning. Severa sat nervously in the chair across from Lissa’s desk. She reached forward, surreptitiously going for a lollipop from a glass bowl.

Lissa rolled her eyes and pushed the dish closer, allowing Severa to take one.

“So,” Severa said, popping it in her mouth. “How’s Noire doing?”

“Not good, I’m afraid,” Lissa admitted. “I cleaned and wrapped her hands and sent her home for the day. I actually wanted to talk to you about some things, that included.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Severa sat up.

Lissa ignored the question, opting instead to peck at her computer’s keyboard. Severa sat in awkward silence, watching her work.

“Your father called me,” Lissa said at last.

Severa groaned. “Oh.”

“He told me that you and your sister had quite the weekend.” Lissa turned to face her guest. “Specifically, that the two of you went hiking.”

Severa nodded. “Y-yeah, it’s-“

“He also told me that you both came home bruised and scratched. No serious harm done, but visibly hurt. Is that right?”

Severa winced. They had neglected to tell their parents about the specifics – about the robed man, the brief period where they were buried alive, and so on. But even so, their injuries were undeniable. Her shoulder was stiff and sore, and a light bruise had formed on her forehead from when she faceplanted into the rock, though the latter was covered by her bangs. Lucina fared somewhat worse – she was covered in scrapes and scratches, most noticeably on her hands. “Y-yeah,” Severa admitted.

“And now, this morning, you come into my office with a friend in tow,” Lissa folded her hands on her desk. “A friend who _also_ sports mysterious injuries sustained over the weekend.”

“She wasn’t with us!” Severa protested.

Lissa shook her head. “Listen to me, Severa. Your friend’s hands were in a bad way - infected at the very least, though I couldn’t determine the extent of the infection. If nothing else, she’ll sustain heavy scarring even with proper medical care. I need to know if Noire was with you.”

“Why?” Severa asked. “I told you, she wasn’t!”

“There are several species of poisonous plants in the mountains. There are feral animals. There are rusty old metal ruins. There are any number of absolutely horrible ways to get injured. Even barring infection, Noire could get tetanus, she could get rabies. I need to know if Noire was with you.”

“She wasn’t!” Severa said again. “I already said!”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

Severa shook her head. “I only know what she told you.”

“I have her file here,” Lissa said, turning back to her computer. “As I was updating it, I noticed some rather…concerning things. I need to ask you, Severa. Is there anything about Noire I should know?”

Severa picked at a hole in her jeans, tugging a fraying thread.

“Severa.”

Severa said nothing.

“Please, Severa. Noire looked very hurt. I gave her a referral to a doctor in town, though that may not be enough. She may need to see a dermatologist. If the infection is as bad as it looks, she might even require hospitalization. I need you to tell me if there’s something you know that could help her.”

Severa swallowed. She tried staring at anything but her aunt – the carpet, her jeans, the desk, the candy dish. She hadn’t lied to Lissa, not yet – she knew only what Noire had told her. Whatever happened to her probably wasn’t Tharja’s fault. And it certainly didn’t happen in the mountains. She chewed on her lollipop slowly, cracking through the candy with a single crunch. She looked up at last.

“Severa.”

“No,” Severa said. “There’s nothing.”

Lissa looked at her computer screen, then back to Severa, who suddenly seemed very small and very frail. She frowned.

 

-

 

Lucina nodded thoughtfully. “It’s an interesting theory.”

Inigo shrugged. “It’s the best we have so far. How do you think it fits into what you found?”

Lucina shrugged. “I genuinely don’t know. We need to wait for Tiki to look over the stuff that we found.” She had recounted most of the story to the rest of the table – Severa was gone, of course, off doing something or other, but she had been there in person and thus didn’t need a recounting. Lucina tried to distill the most important facts, and she stirred her questionable cafeteria-quality soup and recounted what they had learned. The Dragon’s Table existed, and was a church buried high in the mountains. It was connected to other worship spots via a series of tunnels and caves – tunnels that wormed through the entire mountain range, and even burrowed underneath Ylisse itself. Inside the church they found the altar – a magic altar? Perhaps.

Lucina had refused to believe that the robed man had indeed used magic. It seemed too far-fetched, too unreal even amidst the unreality of the situation. She had chalked it up to theatrics – rigged explosives, carefully times mechanisms, something like that. A scare tactic. Though…if they had truly died in that sealed pile of rubble, they wouldn’t have had anyone to tell about his ‘fearsome magic’. She frowned.

For that matter, if he truly was a member of the Grimleal, why did he seem so quick to destroy his own temple, to seal the doors to the main house of worship? She closed her eyes. It felt like they were inching closer. Uncovering more and more, though it still felt like a drop in a bucket.

“But you confirmed at least one thing,” Nah pointed out. “Tiki used the table to summon the robed man. Or…something like that. Which means the sacrifices are being used to…” she frowned. “Do…magic,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Aha!” Owain cried out. “I knew it!”

“It’s not magic, morons. It’s just tricks,” Marc said.

“No, but it’s someone who _thinks_ they’re performing magic,” Nah clarified.

“I’m going to try to call the library tonight and see if Tiki has any insight,” Lucina said, pushing her tray back. “In the meantime, can you guys get each other’s phone numbers? Sev and I are stuck at home, so we might have to do a lot of this coordination over the phone.”

Inigo nodded and reached into his backpack to withdraw a notebook. He tore out pages for everyone and the table quickly scribbled down their phone numbers, passing the pages back and forth. “Can someone get the numbers for everyone who isn’t here? Cynthia, Yarne, uh…” Lucina tapped her pencil against the table. “Kjelle, Laurent, anyone from our meetings after school.”

Morgan nodded. “I know Laurent’s number, and I think Owain has Cynthia’s?”

Owain nodded in confirmation.

“Oh, hey, Sev!” Lucina looked up at her sister, trudging slowly towards the table.

Severa picked up her lunchbox slowly, almost as if she were in a trance. Her eyes were fixed on the smudged white tile lining the cafeteria floor.

“Sev?” Lucina asked, worried.

Severa turned her head slowly. Every movement seemed sluggish, like she was moving with careful deliberation through molasses. Her breathing even seemed labored. “I’m okay,” she said softly. “I just need some space, I think.”

“Sevvy?” Lucina took her hand, trying to tug her back to the table.

“Let go of me!” Severa snapped, yanking herself out of Lucina’s grip. “Don’t call me that.” She curled her recovered hand into a tight fist and dug her nails into her palm.

“What’s wrong?” Lucina asked, standing.

“Nothing, I already told you.” She turned to walk away. For a second, Lucina thought she could see her blinking back tears.


	22. October 10th, 3:04 PM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay at some point I'm gonna go back and give chapters proper titles and put timestamps in front of scenes, where they BELONG, but for now just bear with the total lack of coherency in chapter structure

Severa tightened her grip on her knees, hugging her legs closer. She sniffled, blinking away tears and trying in vain to wipe her cheeks on the faded denim of her jeans. She let slip a gasp that came out more as a gurgle and squeezed her mouth shut. She leaned to the side, resting her head against the cool metal struts underneath the bleachers.

She had heard the bell sound, meaning students would be swarming out of the school soon enough. Her time here was coming to an end. She felt another pang of guilt pierce her chest, clear and sharp as any sword. She sobbed again, hoping her knees would stifle the noise she made. In the back of her mind, she did some time calculations. The football team would go to the locker rooms first, so no one would be at the field until maybe 3:15. She had a little more time.

More time to sit and cry like the coward baby she was. She rocked back and forth, squeezing her legs tightly. She tapped her head against the metal struts, slowly, then painfully. Her skull hit the cold metal with a dull thud and she let out a cry, half of pain and half of despair. She hated everything, and herself most of all.

_Why didn’t you say something?!_ She yelled at herself. _Anything!! You could have said ANYTHING!! You let her get sent back home to that…monster!_

She cried and cried.

A crunch of footsteps on gravel knocked her from her pitiful wallowing. She sniffled and looked up.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She dug the tips of her sneakers into the gravel and buried her face in her knees again. “Go away.”

Lucina stood over her at a half-crouch, ducking under struts and supports as she made her way across the underside of the bleachers. She held her hands up to grip a strut and lower herself to a kneeling position at Severa’s side.

Severa sniffled again.

“Been awhile since you’ve been here, huh,” Lucina said softly, touching her shoulder.

“I said go away,” Severa said into her knees. “Leave me alone.”

Lucina sighed and sat next to her, wincing as she tried to scoot herself into a more comfortable sitting position. Severa had really wedged herself in tightly, making use of her small frame to slip through the maze of metal that held up the bleachers. She managed to block herself almost entirely from view from the paved road and sidewalk that stretched between the parking lot and the football field. If Lucina hadn’t known she was here, she might have gone completely unnoticed. Given that her sobs didn’t attract attention, that is.

Lucina rested her head against a section of the metal crosspiece and sighed. “Dad’s going to be here to pick us up, soon.”

Severa nodded.

“Do you want me to help you get cleaned up?”

Head shake.

“He’s going to know you’ve been crying again.”

Nod.

Lucina pursed her lips. She sighed. “Come on, Sevvy,” she said softly. “Talk to me. What happened?” she tried to remember what had happened at lunch that caused Severa to leap to her feet and take off. “Is it Noire? Did something happen to her?”

Severa nodded and sniffled, raising her head. “Aunt Lissa sent her home because she was hurt.”

“Hurt?” Lucina leaned closer. “Is she alright? Did something happen?”

“I don’t know,” Severa admitted resting the side of her head on her knees so she could look at Lucina. She looked…terrible, if Lucina was being honest with herself. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her mascara and eyeshadow smearing into messy smudges of black around her eyes. Her dripping nose was tinted pink and looked irritated, and her lips were dry and chapped from being out in the cold for so long.

“Sevvy…” Lucina said quietly, wrapping her arm around her sister’s midsection.

She sniffled again. “Aunt Luh-Lissa a…asked if some…if something was happening to No-No-Noire…” her words were punctuated with sharp inhales.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nuh-nothing.” With that, Severa burst into another bout of sobs.

“Shh,” Lucina shushed her, rubbing her shoulders in what she hoped was a soothing manner. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Lucina leaned against Severa. “Marc said you left your stuff in calc. I brought your jacket and backpack.”

“T-thanks,” Severa said almost hoarsely. She lifted her head up, the last spasms of her sobbing still wracking her chest.

“Come on,” Lucina said, rising to a half-crouch, careful to duck under metal struts. “Dad’ll be here soon. Let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk about it at home, okay?”

Severa nodded and allowed Lucina to tug her to her feet. She had evidently masterfully selected her crying location, since she stood with no difficulty and began deftly working her way through the struts, walking slowly but carefully, her steps punctuated by the occasional sniff or wiping of her eyes.

Lucina, on the other hand, struggled. She was tall and lanky, and forced herself into all manner of unnatural positions to extricate herself from the bleachers. She looked up, surprised to see Severa already standing at the foot of the bleacher backs, crouching over the bag and coat Lucina had brought her. Lucina should have been paying attention to where she was going, though, since her next footstep brought her forehead directly into a metal bar.

“Shit!” she cursed, wincing and clutching her forehead. She staggered back, tripping on another bar and falling on her tailbone. “Ouch!” She looked up and groaned. “Gonna make fun of me for that one?”

Severa gave a small smile.

 

-

 

“Tiki, are you sure about this?”

Tiki frowned, flicking the switch on her flashlight back and forth, testing the strength of the beam. She swept it back and forth across the dark space before them, watching with satisfaction as the soft white glow illuminated the spread of artifacts before them. A table, some chairs, a bookcase – mostly empty – a chest of drawers. And walling all of them off, a string from which dangled a small sign. “Please do not touch the exhibits.”

She squinted in the darkness, turning to her companion. “You brought the crowbar?”

“I…” Say’ri nodded, somewhat exasperated. “I did, but…Tiki, this is trespassing. More, it’s vandalizing a historic monument. We could go to prison.”

“And if we do not solve this puzzle, our dear friends and neighbors may die,” Tiki said, with surprising gravity. “A broken law means less than the deaths of those closest to us.”

Say’ri sighed and leaned back, looking nervously out the window. The thin, murky plate glass looked out on one of the many cobblestones streets of Old Ylisse. Through the window she could see across the street, to a cluster of low brick-and-wood buildings, long since vacant. And behind them, the sky glowed a dim orange, the sun settling down behind the mountains and bathing the town in murky twilight.

Their own building was a townhouse, once upon a time. Now rather than a family it housed naught but historical reenactors, tourists, and students. Maybe the occasional grad student or researcher. For the most part, this section of town was thoroughly studied, though. Their townhouse was a small two-story affair, mostly wood, a small garden in the front that was maintained for historical accuracy. Inside, like many of the buildings, it was arranged to give the appearance that no time had passed between its construction and the present day.

Two hundred years of history, preserved with surprising precision, marred only by a fine layer of dust accumulating on the period-appropriate furniture.

Say’ri clicked on her own flashlight and passed the beam around the room. This had been a dining room, once upon a time. The dining table was set with a beautiful spread of glazed pottery, each vessel sporting an array of fake-but-still-tantalizing food. Say’ri swept her beam back to her wife, who was crouched in the shadows. She had withdrawn two papers from her messenger bag and set them on the floor.

One, a tourist map of Old Ylisse. Say’ri could see a number of monuments; the courthouse, town hall, the old church, a smattering of village homes. The blacksmith, the tailor. The map included a few more tourist-oriented locations as well, making sure that no one was left uncertain about the density of restaurants and hotels in the area. Say’ri gazed at the hasty scribbles Tiki was marking on the map. Circling buildings, tracing lines. She held the map up and looked at it, then looked to her other paper.

Tiki’s second document was much older, and much more authentic. Soft, worn, yellowed. Black ink bled across it, smudged in places, pooled in others. Tiki treated it with delicacy, careful to lay it out on a flat surface before consulting it. It was a map taken from one of the books she had scavenged from the Dragon’s Table. A map that outlined the tunnels through the mountains. And, with luck…

“Light!” Say’ri hissed, snapping her flashlight off. Tiki did likewise. They waited in the silence of the dining room, breath held.

A light passed over the window, shafts of bright white illuminating the furniture as it went.

Say’ri took a nervous step back, ducking behind a dresser. The light passed, accompanied by the rumbling of a car across cobblestone. She poked her head out and caught a glimpse of a passing vehicle and the large words emblazoned on its side. “SECURITY”. She let out her breath.

“Clear?” Tiki whispered. Say’ri nodded and flicked her flashlight back on.

Tiki returned to her work. She overlaid the tourist map with the authentic one and squinted. She made a humming sound.

“A problem?” Say’ri asked.

“I’m not sure.” Tiki brushed her bangs from her eyes and flicked her thick ponytail over her shoulder. “The old map shows the tunnels linking up underneath the town, but this map…” she tapped the tourist map. “Is slightly different. The layout of the buildings isn’t quite right.”

“They moved some of the buildings, did they not?” Say’ri asked. She, an immigrant to the town, obviously didn’t have the grasp on local history her wife did, but she scrambled to remember her history lessons. “The blizzard in…” she tapped her light. “Sometime in the 1800s.”

“The Blizzard of 1888,” Tiki nodded.

“If I recall, you once told me the snow collapsed the roofs of many of the buildings. To make repairs easier, they relocated some to group them closer together, forming Old Ylisse from buildings that had once been scattered across the town.”

“Right you are,” Tiki smiled. “Thank you, dear. I had forgotten.”

Say’ri nodded, crouching next to her. She pored over the map. “Here,” she said, pressing her finger against a cluster of buildings. “If I recall, you said they relocated the tanner and surrounding buildings and put them next to the courthouse. So those would be…” she traced her finger across the tourist map. “These buildings here.”

Tiki set her light down and pulled out her pen to make a mark. “Yes, yes. And that means…” she traced a light black line in ink from the courthouse to the row of village homes that marked the border between Old Ylisse and the town proper. “We’re here.” She tapped a home. “And that means on the old map, we are…”

“Here.” Say’ri poked the old map.

“Careful, dear,” Tiki chastised her, gently pushing her hand back. “It’s very old, and I have no interest in climbing that mountain again.” She squinted and leaned closer. “You are right again, however.” She cleaned up her maps and slid them into a manila folder which she returned to her messenger bag.

“This house was owned by a man named Darros when it was originally built,” Tiki explained, fussing with her flashlight. “A seafaring man, who spent much of his life transporting casks of wine up and down the coast. When he settled down in Archanea, he made sure to dig a wine cellar for his home.” She swept her flashlight beam across the house. “Come.”

As they walked through the bottom floor, their steps creaked uncomfortably on the wooden floor. This house was used regularly, so Say’ri had no fear of the floor collapsing beneath them, but at the same time every loud creak made her wince. A passerby on foot, a jogger, a patrolling officer – anyone could see their sweeping beams, and anyone could hear their heavy footsteps. With the town on high alert, getting caught trespassing would be regrettable. Especially, she remembered, since they had already been chastised for accidentally kidnapping two children for the weekend.

Say’ri fingered her flashlight nervously. She wasn’t afraid of the dark. Nor most things. Even being trapped in the mountain hadn’t fazed her, not really. But she did fear arrest. Besides, it was easier to pass off her nervousness as a fear that they would be caught, and thus keep her mind off the creaking boards and the howling wind and the distant whispering that _surely_ wasn’t a ghost. She flashed her light across the ceiling, startled by a soft thump above them. The boards over their heads showered dust on them and Say’ri jumped.

“Frightened?” Tiki asked.

“Of course not,” Say’ri muttered. “Startled, that’s all.”

They passed through the house slowly as Tiki checked the floor for an entrance to the wine cellar. Nothing in the dining room, nor the living room, nor the first-floor study. They carefully sidled past reconstructed furniture, stepped over rope’s warning against intrusion, and did their best to make as minor impact as possible.

“Here,” Tiki said at last, kneeling. She grasped a heavy iron handle on the floor of the kitchen and tugged.

Say’ri couldn’t help but notice the “NO ENTRY PERMITTED” sign very clearly fastened to the top of the cellar door.

Tiki opened the cellar door and leaned it back against the wall of the kitchen, greeted by a puff of dust from the darkness within.

“What makes you so sure the cellar will connect to the tunnels?” Say’ri asked, as Tiki began walking down the creaking wooden stairs.

“I’m not. But one of these houses must, no?”

“Why? Whose to say none of them do?”

Tiki looked up, positioned halfway into the cellar. Say’ri leaned over the yawning black void, watching her wife’s legs disappear into darkness. Tiki flashed her beam up at Say’ri.

“The Grimleal had infiltrated Archanean society,” she explained. “If not this house, then one of them will connect to the tunnels. A shortcut between the mountains and the town would have been invaluable. They clearly mapped out even the tunnels beneath town. Unless their spelunking expeditions lasted days, the simplest explanation is that there is a connection point here.”

Say’ri frowned, unconvinced. “Would you have us search every basement in Old Ylisse?”

“Yes, and the sewers, then.”

Say’ri shook her head and sighed. Tiki’s head was at her knee height still, most of her body plunged into the blackness of the cellar stairs. “I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, there was a crack. Say’ri and Tiki froze, each staring into the other’s eyes with fear. Tiki opened her mouth to speak.

Another crack, then a roar. Then a scream, and Tiki vanished into the yawning blackness beyond the cellar doors.

 

-

 

“Come on, come on, come on,” Severa tapped the phone impatiently. “Come on, you stupid thing. Connect.”

A click sounded on the other end of the line.

“Miss Tharja!” Severa cried, trying not to sound too agitated. “Is Noire there?”

There was silence for a moment. “Why do you want to know?”

Severa breathed a sigh of relief. That meant she probably was. “She…uh…” she froze, realizing that confessing her knowledge of Noire’s injuries might be a bad call. “She left school early today for some reason. I wanted to call and let her know what work she missed.”

“Hm.”

Severa winced. Not her most convincing lie, but plausible enough. Did Tharja know she and her daughter weren’t in the same grade? Severa couldn’t remember.

“She’s sleeping.”

Severa mouthed “fuck!” and pursed her lips. “Um…when she wakes up, could you tell her Severa called?”

“Mmhm,” came the disinterested reply.

“Please, Miss Tharja. It’s really important. It’s…the big first semester project for English.”

Severa hung up the phone with a resigned sigh, limping slowly to the living room before flopping herself face-first on the couch.

“No luck, then?” Lucina asked, looking up from her book. Severa rolled forty-five degrees, just enough to make out the block letters on the cover of Lucina’s book.

“Why are you reading _that_?” she asked, disregarding the question.

Lucina shrugged, looking at the book’s cover. “Inigo likes it.”

“Gross,” Severa pushed herself into a kneeling position on the couch. She flopped down again, this time into a more proper sitting position. “So what’s with you two? Are you like, a thing now?”

Lucina slipped her bookmark into her book and set it down on the coffee table. She sighed and looked around the empty living room. The curtains were drawn, letting in nothing but slivers of blackness from the night outside. The lamp in the corner bathed the room in a soft yellow glow, illuminating an old worn couch and armchair set, a coffee table, and a big color television with rabbit ears protruding from the top.

“Promise you won’t tell mom and dad?”

Severa held up one pinky, indicating a promise from a distance.

“I think so,” Lucina smiled. “He asked me to homecoming, after all. What do you think? Do you think he likes me?”

Severa groaned and hit her head against the couch back in mock disdain. “Ugh, gross! He’s _your_ stupid boyfriend, isn’t he? Of course he likes you!”

“I don’t know…” Lucina frowned. “It still feels weird. He asked about homecoming and I said yes, but…is it weird? Is it too soon after…you know. All that.”

“Let me try this again.” Severa cleared her throat. “I. Don’t. Know. Jeez, all I asked is if you’re dating. That’s a yes or no answer.”

“Okay, fine,” Lucina crossed her arms. “If it’s so simple. You and Noire. Dating?”

“Da…” Severa started to speak, offended, then froze up. “I mean…w…we…” she blushed. “We’re…I mean…I don’t think…”

“So you ADMIT IT!” Lucina cried out triumphantly. “Ha! I knew it!”

“We are NOT!” Severa lied.

“Oh my god, she’s slept in your BED! How are you not dating?!”

“It’s…that’s different!”

“It is NOT!” Lucina giggled, throwing her book at Severa. “Come on, really. Are you two going to homecoming?”

“I dunno,” Severa admitted.

“Do you want to go? I know you said she isn’t really interested, but…”

Severa scowled. “No, not really.”

“Why not?”

“I’m…” Severa grumbled and picked up the missile Lucina had lobbed her way. She picked at the plastic library sticker adhered to the back. “I…I’m just gonna get picked on. You know I am.”

“Because you’d go with Noire?”

Severa nodded. “Because I’m going with a sophomore. Because I’m going with a girl. Because I’m going with _that particular_ girl. Because I’ll just look stupid, and I don’t know how to dance, and it’s not like I have friends to go with, and…”

“What?” Lucina said, taken aback. “What do you mean, no friends? Come with Inigo and I! We can all get dinner together beforehand or something.”

Severa grumbled and flopped down again, pressing her face into the arm of the couch. “I don’t wanna make it weird. I’m just not going to go.”

“Okay, but do you want to?” Lucina asked again. “Barring all that crap. Assuming it’s a perfect night. You would want to go?”

“It’s not like Noire even has a dress to wear,” Severa said softly. “There’s just no point. I’d just get into a fight with someone and get kicked out anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Lucina protested softly.

“It’s what happened at the spring dance last year.”

Lucina sighed. She was right. She _had_ gotten into a fight, and it wasn’t even about Noire. Lucina thought it might have been about pretzels. And, as with all Severa’s fights, she didn’t even win. Wincing, she recalled with vivid clarity Severa’s prone form, curled into a ball as her assailants rained kicks on her.

It would have been a pitiful sight, had Severa not been the instigator.

“Come on. I’ll come with you to buy tickets tomorrow morning, okay? You and Noire can just hang out with Inigo and me. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Severa mumbled.

“I’ll even let you pick the restaurant we go to for dinner,” Lucina said, trying to sweeten the pot. “As long as it’s not Anna’s. You can’t pick Anna’s.”

“Fuck,” Severa swore, pushing herself up. “How’d you know?”

“’Cause that’s the only place you _ever_ want to eat, dork,” Lucina smiled. “Okay, it has to be a _real_ restaurant. Not a diner. Not fast food. Not pizza.”

Severa mulled over the options in her head. “McCleary’s.”

“That’s a BAR!” Lucina shrieked, throwing another book at her sister. “I said a restauraAH!” she suddenly doubled over, clutching her face in pain.

Severa bolted upright, at attention.

Lucina let out another cry and toppled out of her chair, collapsing into a heap on the carpet, writhing in pain.

“Luci!” Severa rushed to her side. As soon as she knelt on the carpet next to her, the power flickered.

“Luci,” Severa breathed, carefully touching her prone form. “Is it your eye? What’s wrong?”

“It’s…ah…hah…” Lucina groaned and blinked rapidly. She removed her left hand from her face and stared in horror, blinking frantically and trying not to panic. Her hand came away from her eye stained red. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but her left eye wouldn’t clear. It was dark and murky, her vision swimming in dark shades of red and black.

“Oh shit, Luci, you’re bleeding,” Severa cradled her head, looking around the living room. Seeing no better options, she reached out and snatched a tissue box from the coffee table, pulling out tissues and bunching them up against Lucina’s eye. The balled white papers quickly turned red as blood seeped into them. With her good eye, Lucina stared in horror at her blood-stained left hand, watching the red drip from her palm down her wrist.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Severa swore. “Does it hurt?”

Lucina nodded, gasping in pain. “Y-yeah,” she muttered. “F-fuck…ah…” She blinked again, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. Blood didn’t scare her, usually, but the pulsing headache and swimming vision made her feel sick and scared. Her skull felt like it was going to split down the middle.

“O-okay,” Severa said, trying to think clearly. “Okay can you hold this?” She took Lucina’s hand and pressed it against the balled tissues against her eye. “I’m gonna call 911.”

Lucina gasped again, trying to still her shaking hand against her eye. “N-no,” she muttered. “C-Call dad…call…”

“What? Why?” Severa cried out. She stared at her sister, writhing on the floor. “He’ll just tell me to call 911!”

“C-call…” Lucina’s sentence was cut off by another flicker of the lights. The lamp flicked back and forth, light-dark-light-dark-light.

Severa froze, her heart thrumming against her ribcage. She could hear her pulse in her ears. The room was so silent, the only sound the soft shuffle of Lucina’s shirt as she shifted on the carpet.

Suddenly the lamp flashed again, and the bulb burst, one last pop of light before the room was plunged into pitch black void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM Double cliffhanger


	23. October 10th, 9:48 PM

“Shit,” came a soft, lightly accented voice, drifting up from the black void.

“Tiki!” Say’ri called out. “Tiki, are you alright?!”

“Yes, yes,” came the voice again. “Though my tailbone will be bruised in the morning, that much is certain.”

Say’ri laughed, relieved. “Oh, thank goodness.” She leaned out over the cellar entrance and shined her flashlight down at her wife, sprawled on her backside on the dusty stone floor. Above her, the wooden stairs were split in fragments of splintered wood.

“I suspect the renovation did not extend to the cellar stairs,” Tiki said, brushing herself off as she stood.

“Yes, I would suspect that as well,” Say’ri chuckled, kneeling. She peered down into the cellar and watched as Tiki picked up her flashlight and scanned the room.

Tiki paced the room carefully, stepping around cobweb-strewn half-repaired chairs and tables, long-empty wine casks, and rusting metal ornaments. Some of it was roped off with thick bands of yellow caution tape, indicating that there had indeed been Historical Society interference here.

“What do you see?” Say’ri asked. “Shall I come down as well?”

Tiki shook her head. “No, I think you were quite right. It is, after all, just a wine cellar.”

“Great,” Say’ri sat back, heavily. “So we’re back at square one?”

Tiki hummed and pulled out her tourist map again, poring over it with the aid of her flashlight. “The neighbors may have a cellar as well. The pamphlet says that the next house down was owned by two brothers named Bord and Cord, who ran a carpentry shop out of their basement.

“They sure don’t _sound_ like murderous cultists,” Say’ri muttered. “I’ll look for something you can stand on to climb out, okay?”

With the aid of a large wooden crate and her wife’s strong, muscular grip, Tiki was extracted from the cellar in no time. They closed the cellar door back up tightly before slipping out the back door and into the cool night air. It was still early autumn, but already there was a nip in the air. The forecast called for temperatures almost dipping into the thirties, and Say’ri half-expected a coating of frost would make an appearance the following morning.

But for the time being, the night was crisp and clear. There was a scent of woodsmoke on the breeze, and the night air carried the rustling of autumn leaves. In the distance, there was a howl. A coyote, perhaps. Say’ri shivered, thankful for her thermal jacket as they trekked between yards.

Old Ylisse was isolated, walled off from the main part of the city by a narrow park complete with running trails and a bushy treeline. They could scarcely even hear the sounds of the town – there was almost no artificial sound at all, save the low vibration of an airplane somewhere high above. It was quiet, here. Quiet, isolated, and above all, dark. The sun had faded below the horizon and now the only light was the distant glow of Ylisse proper.

There were no streetlights in Old Ylisse, nor lights of any kind save gaslamps. Those, though, were only lit on weekends, when tour guides would provide Halloween-themed tours touting the ghosts and demons and monsters of old. On such tours, the guides would spin wild warns about clawed beasts in the woods, or somber white-clad women haunting the outskirts of the village. With some degree of irony, Say’ri recalled Tiki dismissing such tours as superfluous, ahistorical hogwash.

Strange words from the woman crowbarring her way into a house to check its basement for cult activity.

The next house proved no more fortunate, though they managed to avoid breaking any staircases. The third house as well, was fruitless, though it didn’t even _have_ a basement, despite Tiki’s insistence that it might be hidden. They traversed Old Ylisse, poking into cellars and basements, digging through bookshelves and dragging couches, poring every inch of floorspace for something, some clue that would point them in the right direction.

Tiki droned on about her hunch as they searched. The mysterious man, the hooded figure, managed to appear and disappear at will. He was seemingly everywhere – the reservoir, the mountains, neighborhoods, main street, the strip mall on the outskirts of town. He seemed to be able to move between places with ease, never being spotted despite his distinctive appearance. And thus, Tiki assumed, he was using the tunnels as a means of transportation.

And so they searched, on and on, into the night.

 

-

 

“Shit!” Severa shouted, trying to keep tears from flooding into her eyes. Not that it mattered, since she couldn’t see so much as her own hands in the darkness. She stumbled across the living room, tripping on the coffee table and faceplanting on the carpet. She hauled herself up with the strength that panic confers and slapped the wall, swiping blindly for the lightswitch. She smacked the phone off its hook and sent it swinging on its cord. She hit a couple framed pictures as she stumbled along the wall, feeling her way. The pictures hit the ground and crunched as the glass frames shattered. At last she hit a lightswitch.

It did nothing. She flicked it back and forth. “Fuck!” she screamed, almost trying to rip the switch from the wall. “Fuck!” She staggered into the kitchen, lit by the moonlight streaming in through the window, and she almost fainted.

In the window, framed in a glow of moonlight, was a blackened silhouette.

She screamed and stumbled backwards, springing for the front door. It creaked open slowly as she approached and she rammed her shoulder into it, loudly slamming it shut. She fumbled with the lock, staring in horror as the gold handle rattled in her grip. Finally she gripped the handle with one hand and slid the deadbolt with her other, taking a step back and watching in apprehension as the door rattled on its frame.

“S…Sev…” Lucina moaned from the floor. “Th…the garage-“ even before the words slipped out from Lucina’s lips, Severa bolted across the living room again, crossing the kitchen and making a point not to look at the window. She slid across the tile in her socks and slammed into the door to the garage, locking and bolting it as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, sprinting back across the kitchen. Her socks slid on the tile and she slipped, cracking her head into the kitchen counter and letting out a cry of pain.

She winced, staggering back to Lucina and pressing a hand against her forehead. It felt wet and she tried to push the rising fear back down into her stomach. Lucina needed her. She couldn’t panic. Lucina needed her.

She limped into the living room and collapsed at Lucina’s side. “Come on, Luci,” she slid one arm under Lucina’s back and the other under her legs. “Come on. Can you…” she let go briefly to wipe her eyes. “Can you stand?”

Lucina shook her head but tried nonetheless, allowing Severa to lift her to her feet.

“Oof,” Severa grunted with the effort, “You’re heavy, you know that?”

“S-sorry,” Lucina muttered, letting go of her face to help balance. Her wad of tissues, now damp and stained, tumbled to the floor. She blinked again, trying to clear the blood from her eye as she and Severa limped up the stairs. Behind them, the front door rattled on its hinges.

As they ascended to the landing, the sound of shattering glass startled them into a panic. Severa stumbled and they both fell, collapsing in the hallway outside the bathroom. Severa got to her feet first, crawling to the bathroom and grasping Lucina’s arm to tug her into the bathroom behind her. She slammed the door shut and locked it, breathing heavily, blood streaming from her forehead.

She tried to regain her composure and sat against the door. Lucina was curled up next to her, head resting on the bath mat, breathing slowly. It was quiet.

The front door had stopped rattling.

Severa held her breath, trying to listen. The shattering glass had been distant and muted. Severa suspected it was from the kitchen. Sure enough, as she listened, she could hear footsteps on tile. Slow, plodding, heavy. She let out a whimper and clamped her hand over her mouth.

Lucina was motionless on the floor beside her. Severa nudged her and she let out a soft gasp.

“Shh,” Severa whispered. Lucina whimpered and nodded.

Severa leaned back against the bathroom door, listening carefully. The footsteps were gone now.

_The carpet. He’s in the living room_.

Nothing. Silence, save her own heartbeat, drumming loudly enough in her ears, she was sure he could hear it. Lucina shifted slightly, making a slight rustling sound. Severa reached out and grasped her arm tightly. _No._ She tried to communicate telepathically.

The footsteps returned, heavy, deliberate, reverberating. Growing louder. He was coming up the stairs, now. Severa squeezed her eyes shut, though it made no difference. There were no windows in the bathroom, so it was pitch black. No amount of time would allow her eyes to adjust. Even now, as she held her hand out and opened her eyes, she could see nothing.

The footsteps grew louder. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Severa gulped and pressed her head back against the door. Maybe he would leave. Maybe he would think they ran away. She tried to still her heaving chest. Tears welled in her eyes.

The footsteps grew even closer. Severa clamped a hand over her mouth. With the other she scrabbled in the dark for Lucina’s, clutching hers tightly. Lucina offered a weak squeeze in return.

The footsteps were right outside. Severa looked by her backside and saw the thin sliver of light creeping through the door crack. A dark shadow blocked most of it. Severa tried not to scream.

Suddenly the front door rattled again, and then banged. More bangs, someone hitting the front door with all their might. The shadow at the bathroom door froze.

A distance voice echoed in the night air.

“Girls? Are you in there?”

Severa felt relief flood into her chest, her tense body collapsing limply against the door. _Daddy_. She wanted to cry out, to shout back _We’re here!_ , but she was frozen, unable to even lift her head to yell.

“Girls?!” the voice came, more frantic. The pounding grew louder. “Girls, I’m coming!”

Severa could hear a splinter of wood and saw the shadow disappear from the foot of the bathroom door. The lights flickered again, on, off, on, off, on. The bulb illuminating the bathroom flickered to life, bathing the room in a comforting glow. Severa cried, clutching her head and sobbing, collapsing onto her sister and releasing all the tension she had been holding in her body.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. The bathroom door rattled and Severa’s breath caught, for a brief moment thinking the shadow had returned.

“Lucina? Severa?” Chrom called out, his voice so close. “Are you in there.”

“D-Daddy?” Severa whimpered through her tears. “We…we’re here.” She reached a limp arm up and unlocked the door, feeling like she was in a dream. Her movements felt slow and unattached to her own sense of self.

The door swung wide and Chrom was there. Dad was there, and everything was alright again. The lights were back on, and Severa sobbed and clung to Lucina and they laid together in the pool of blood and tears on the bathroom floor.

 

-

 

Say’ri sat cross-legged on a wooden bench along the cobblestone street, peering at the map. She tapped her flashlight against the bench, thinking.

“Tiki,” she said at last.”

“Hm?” Tiki looked up, engrossed in her own papers, crossing off locations and marking more.

“You said the sewers might be connected, did you not?”

“I did.”

Say’ri slid her map to Tiki and pointed. “Look. This section here, right behind the church. The streets on the new map line up almost perfectly with the tunnels. Do you think the tunnels were used _as_ the sewers? Or…” she searched for the right words. “As the basis for them?”

Tiki nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. It might be worth a look. Do you propose we look for a manhole?”

Say’ri shook her head. “There wouldn’t be one, right? These are cobblestone streets.” To illustrate her point, she kicked the street in front of the bench.

“What are you thinking, then?”

Say’ri looked up and pointed her flashlight. “There wouldn’t be real sewers, correct? Or…proper sewers. It would be storm drains, would it not? Since there’s no functional plumbing in Old Ylisse.”

Tiki nodded. “But there would be storm sewers. When they relocated the old buildings, they wanted to ensure snowmelt wouldn’t damage the foundations of the buildings.” She tapped her pen excitedly. “There must be a maintenance entrance for these sewers. It wouldn’t appear on the tourist map, but…”

“Here,” Say’ri said, pointing. “It’s an intersection of two of the tunnels. If it truly is the sewers as well, that would be the most efficient entrance.”

Tiki smiled, standing up. She stretched. “Well, shall we? We’re burning moonlight.”

 

-

 

Severa winced as Cordelia pressed a peroxide-soaked cloth to her forehead. “I told you, I’m-AH! Shit that hurts.”

“Language, Severa,” Cordelia said softly, more out of habit than anything else.

“I’m fine, mom,” she muttered. “I wanna go see Lucina.”

Cordelia shook her head. “Your father’s taking her to the hospital. He asked that you stay here for the night. We can visit her tomorrow morning.”

“That’s not fair!” Severa shouted, flailing. Her arm caught the bottle of peroxide and sent it to the floor. The fizzing liquid pooled on the carpet.

Cordelia dutifully knelt and picked it up, screwing the cap back on and setting it on the coffee table. She made no attempt to acknowledge Severa’s outburst, instead settling for applying a generous amount of disinfectant to the gash on her forehead. She then fished through the first aid kid, looking for band-aids.

Heavy footsteps entered the room.

“Did you find anything?” Cordelia asked, standing up.

“Not yet, ma’am,” the uniformed officer said, taking off his cap. He scratched his head. “Signs of forced entry in the kitchen and the living room.” He gestured to the front door, swinging on its hinges, the wood around the lock and handle splintered.

“I told you,” Cordelia said, frustrated. “That was my husband’s doing. The intruder only came in through the kitchen. You should be focusing your search there.”

“Ma’am, I know how to conduct an investigation.”

“Then do it and get the hell out.” Cordelia’s voice could have frozen hell itself.

“Right away, ma’am,” the officer said, returning to the kitchen.

Cordelia sighed and sat next to Severa on the couch.

Severa wiped her eyes, trying to put up a callous front before her mother and the pile of patrol officers summoned to their house. She tried and failed, letting out a sob and throwing her arms around her mother. She cried – pain, anxiety, fear, panic, relief, everything mingling in her chest at once, overflowing and pouring from her mouth in a flood of tears.

“I’m suh-sorry,” she sobbed, “M-mom, I’m so-so-sorry!” she lifted her head back and tried to wipe her eyes before collapsing into more sobs. “M-mom, I-I-I-I-I-“ she stammered, unable to get past her first word. She tried again. “I-I-I-I-“ she felt her chest constricting.

“Shhh…” Cordelia shushed her and wrapped her arms around her tightly, cooing gently. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Severa sniffled and nodded. “I wuh-wuh-want to s-see Luci.”

“I know,” Cordelia said softly. She stroked Severa’s hair and kept her clasped tight. “I know. We will. Just rest, now.” Severa whimpered and pressed herself into her mother, letting herself get lost in the warm, comforting embrace. Cordelia stroked her hair and whispered words of comfort into her ear.

“Ma’am?” the officer said, again walking into the living room. “Excuse me.”

Cordelia looked up. “Did you find something?” she asked. Her voice was considerably softer now.

The officer nodded. “Does this look familiar?” he held up a scrap of purple fabric. “It was snagged on the window. There was some blood as well. The intruder must had gotten caught trying to climb through.

Cordelia swallowed, trying not to get her hopes up. “That’s good, right? You…you can do tests? To see whose it is?”

The officer shrugged. “We’ll do what we can, ma’am.” He paced across the living room. “Perhaps the two of you should get a motel room for the night. It’ll be some time before we finish up the investigation here.”

 

-

 

Tiki jammed the crowbar into the crack of the door and pulled with all her might.

“Here, let me try,” Say’ri nudged her to the side and took a firmer grip on the bar. She tugged, and with a scrape and a pop, the door cracked open. It swung open, scraping unpleasantly across the stone floor. Say’ri pushed the door the rest of the way opening, pressing her hand against the “NO TRESPASSING” sign. The sewer substation was dark, though unlike most of Old Ylisse, it had some evidence of modernity. Namely the locks, the metal door, and the soft glow of the bare fluorescent bulb above the door. They slipped through and Tiki made sure to prop the door open, using the crowbar as a doorstop.

Say’ri shifted, taking the first tentative steps into the substation. Her boots echoed in the dark of the plain stone hallway. It was, as she had expected, a rather plain and utilitarian space. Mostly sharp angles, unpainted grey stone, and the wafting smell of mold. She swept her beam around the entrance. Stairs descended downwards, towards the sewers themselves.

“Well,” she said. “Shall we?”

The stairs cut a narrow switchback, descending in clusters of five steps before turning back on themselves, descending deeper into the earth. After three sets of stairs, it evened out to a landing that led them to a metal ladder.

“Make sure you test your weight first,” Say’ri teased, gesturing to Tiki to go first. She clambered down the ladder, her boots tapping on the metal rungs with a ring that sounded deafening in the suffocating silence of the sewer. Say’ri followed suit, climbing down and following Tiki out to a metal landing in what appeared to be a wide passageway that formed a pipe for the sewer proper.

The pipe they entered, much like the substation itself, was a thick band of plain grey stone, narrow enough that it required them to duck. A channel for water ran down the middle, and on each side of the tunnel were raised platforms.

“So here we are,” Say’ri said, somewhat surprised. She pointed her flashlight at the channel of water before them, watching as the beam pierced the still, murky water. She half-expected an alligator to swim past. She turned to her wife and swept the beam past her, illuminating the depths of the tunnel beyond. “What’s your plan?”

“This is new,” Tiki said, tapping the wall. “If the sewers had been built before, say, the thirties, brick would have been used, not concrete.”

“So…your hunch was wrong.”

“I’m not sure,” Tiki said, tucking her flashlight into her bag and pulling out her map yet again. She began to walk forward, footsteps echoing in the stone channel as she did.

“W-wait!” Say’ri followed close behind, keeping her light pinned on the path in front of them lest Tiki’s wayward wandering drop her into the water.

They worked their way slowly through the maze of pipes, passing intersections and winding turns, making one brief detour across some metal grating, and finally, at long last-

“A dead end.”

Tiki frowned and stared at her map. “This isn’t right. The tunnels should continue here.”

“Unless the sewer was built to block the tunnel off. So this is just a stone wall.” Say’ri took the opportunity to examine their surroundings. The sewer tunnel had broadened as they walked and grown somewhat taller. They no longer had to crouch to walk, though the narrow walkways on either side of the water channel still required caution. She swept her beam upwards, across the top of the pipe, and let it linger on a metal grate. She leaned forward on her tiptoes, trying to look out past the grate and get a sense of location. All she could see was the top corner of a brick building.

“Where do you suppose we are?” she asked, reaching up and wrapping her fingers around a lattice of the metal grate. Curious, she pushed. It budged, but only so. With enough leverage, it would have been more than possible to lift it and climb out.

“I know where we are,” Tiki said, matter-of-factly. “I’ve been following the map. We’re right here,” she said, pointing to a place on the weathered old paper map.

“Okay…” Say’ri frowned. “Where is that in modern Ylisse terms?”

“Two blocks off main street,” Tiki explained. “Right past the deli on Third.”

Say’ri nodded. “So, unless the killer is using the tunnels to speed up his acquisition of charcuterie, we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

“Perhaps…” Tiki nodded. “Unless…” she gazed at the stormwater, watching it flowing. She paused.

Flowing. It should have been motionless, no? It had been still when they first entered the drain, but here the water was flowing, moving languidly away from them, back from where they had come. Tiki snatched up her flashlight and dashed off, keeping a close eye on the current. She took a left turn when they came to an intersection, then a right. The water was still moving sluggishly, but it was more perceptible. There was a definite current, leading her on, deeper and deeper into the maze of concrete and stone and metal grates. At long last, she stumbled and almost fell as she rounded a corner. Sure enough, the channel emptied out into a broad brick pipe. There were no walkways on the side, but the pipe was wide and tall enough that they could stand.

“It must be an older section of the sewers,” she said excitedly. “Come, Say’ri! We must be close!” They plunged into the brick pipe, following the water. Rather than sharp angles, the tunnel curved in sweeping arcs, winding back and forth as the stream of water slowed to a trickle. They were heading downhill, now.

Neither of them were sure how long they wandered the maze, plunging deeper into the twisting brick channels. There were no metal grates here, nothing but the interminable ring of weathered red blocks and the trickling flow of water that they followed. They passed no ladders, no grates, no drains. There was nothing, not even seams in the walls.

Then suddenly, without warning, the pipe plunged off into a void of blackness. Tiki skidded to a halt, nearly falling as she staggered to the edge. Say’ri collided into her backside and they both stumbled. Tiki fell into the yawning abyss and-

Hit the surface of the water with a cold splash. She swam frantically, thrashing her arms and splashing in surprise. She looked up.

The night sky twinkled above them. Stars sparkled high in the distance, and somewhere, far off, they could hear the rumble of a diesel engine.

Tiki spat and tried to right herself, treading water.

“W-where…” she wondered, swimming back towards the pipe’s drop-off.

“The reservoir!” Say’ri shouted. Sure enough, they got their bearings – the storm drain had emptied out of a narrow rock face, the brick tunnel terminating in a sharp five-foot descent to the reservoir below. Tiki swam to the edge and rested against the rock face, gasping for breath.

Say’ri opted to climb down carefully, sidling along the rock face and dropping down to the shores of the reservoir, where she helped Tiki out of the water.

Tiki collapsed on her backside in the dirt and leaned back, soaked and freezing. She began to wring her thick braid out, letting the water splatter into the dirt next to her.

Say’ri sat next to her and began shedding her thermal jacket, wrapping her shivering wife and tugging her into a warm embrace. They leaned back against the shore together, staring out at the reservoir.

The surface was a clear, dark blue, illuminated by the pinpricks of starlight above. The moon had risen just above the treeline on the far side of the reservoir, a thin crescent reflected in the gentle ripples of the water. It was like a pool of thick, inky blackness, like oil shining in the dark night. If nothing else, it was beautiful.

“So…another dead end,” Say’ri sighed, leaning her head against Tiki’s. “Where to now, captain? Home for a warm shower?”

Tiki nodded, teeth chattering as she huddled in closer.

After resting for a few minutes, Say’ri stood and began to gather up their things – her own gear, Tiki’s now-thoroughly-soaked messenger bag…with a wince, Say’ri opened it to check their map. The pilfered parchment from the Dragon’s Table was soaked through and through, the already nigh-illegible ink now smeared. “Crap,” she muttered. Best not worry about that until later.

Tiki climbed to her feet slowly, shivering. She wrapped Say’ri’s jacket tighter around herself.

“Well, one thing’s for certain,” Say’ri said, trying to be encouraging.

“What’s that?”

“You were right,” Say’ri said. “About the killer using the tunnels to get around. Look.” She pointed at the pipe they had emerged from. “It came out at the reservoir. The entrance in Old Ylisse would have given him access to Old Ylisse, the town center, and large chunks of main street. If he knew the locations of other substations, he could use those as well.”

Tiki nodded, brushing her soaked bangs from her eyes. “But I was wrong. It didn’t connect to the tunnels, not really.”

“It might have,” Say’ri said, taking her hand and tugging her up the slopes away from the reservoir. “Perhaps it was walled off by the new construction, perhaps even the brick pipes cut it off. Perhaps there even is a connection, just one we haven’t found yet. We can hardly be expected to search an entire town’s worth of tunnels by ourselves.”

Tiki hummed thoughtfully, her mind lingering on those last few words.


	24. October 11th, 1:24 AM

Severa emerged from the bathroom, shrouded in a cloud of hot white steam. She adjusted her towel, wrapping it tightly around her chest to keep herself modest. Well, as modest as one could be in nothing but a bath towel.

She hugged herself and surveyed her surroundings. They had taken the officer’s advice and gotten a hotel room just a block or so from the hospital, and Severa gazed with some disdain at the tacky carpet and plain bedspreads. Too much yellow and orange for her tastes. Her mother sat at the desk by the window, phone nestled in the crook of her shoulder, notepad spread out before her.

The curtains were drawn shut, and the room, despite its décor of tacky yellows and reds, felt at least somewhat comforting. It was such a small space – so intimate and confined, Severa couldn’t help but feel safer. The bathroom was the only place where she wasn’t in eyesight of Cordelia.

“You’re up,” she said to her mother, hoping she wasn’t interrupting anything. Cordelia nodded and turned to her, holding out the phone.

“I’m on hold with the hospital. Can you take this while I shower?”

Severa nodded and they switched places. She plunked down in the uncomfortable black rolling chair and tucked the phone into her shoulder. Soft Muzak played and she twirled her hair around her finger, impatient.

She felt so tired. It had been a long day, a capstone for an already exhausting weekend. Her legs still burned from the hike, and she wished she had snagged ibuprofen before leaving home. Her forehead stung where she hit her head, and her entire torso ached from the number of tumbles she had taken in the past few hours. She was sore, tired, but above all nervous. She couldn’t even consider sleep with the thoughts bouncing around her head.

Lucina and Noire occupied the forefront of her concerns, and she set the phone down and crossed to the television to distract herself. She turned it on, frowning. Black and white? What the hell kind of budget hotel was this? She fiddled with the dial, settling on some cartoon she vaguely recalled seeing before. She sat back down at the desk and picked up the phone again.

The line crackled to life.

“Miss Cordelia?”

Severa sat up. “Uh, no. This is her daughter though.”

“Can you get your mother? The attending physician would like to speak with her.”

“She just got in the shower,” Severa explained. “Can you just give me a message for her?”

There was a period of silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of static through the line. Another voice came on, still definitely feminine, but somewhat lower. “You’re Lucina’s sister?”

“Yeah, that’s right. My mom can’t come to the phone.”

“My name is Dr. Lena, I’m the doctor taking care of your sister.”

“Is Lucina alright? What happened?” Severa leaned over the desk and looked for the pen her mother had been taking notes with.

“Well, we don’t exactly know yet,” Lena admitted. “We’re still running tests, but the good news is that the bleeding stopped. We put her on a low dose of painkillers to sedate her and we will be giving her head an MRI and x-rays to see if we can determine the source of the problem.”

Severa nodded and jotted down the information she was given. “She’s not in pain though, right?”

“No, that’s what the opioids were for. She was in a great deal of pain when she first arrived, but since being sedated she should be fine. Though, we really can’t know for sure until she wakes up.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

There was a brief pause before the doctor spoke again, with somewhat less confidence. “We aren’t certain yet. Our best guess so far is that she had an aneurysm.”

Severa closed her eyes and tried to think of how to spell that.

“That’s when an artery wall weakens and bulges. If the blood vessel ruptures, it can cause spontaneous bleeding. The buildup of pressure could have been responsible for both the headaches and the bleeding.”

“Will she be okay?”

Another pause. Severa scratched down notes.

“We hope so. Right now, we’re uncertain what the exact cause is, but the MRI will hopefully tell us more. If it was an aneurysm, she may need to take some time to recover and there may be permanent damage depending on the extent of the rupture.”

Severa felt her stomach lurch. She eyed the metal trashcan and hoped she wouldn’t have to vomit while on the phone. She wrote down _permanent damage?_ and set her pen down.

“B-but she’ll be okay, right?” Severa hoped her voice didn’t sound as feeble and pitiful as she thought it did. “You can fix her?”

“We’ll do our best. We’ll call when we have the results of the next tests.”

“O-okay,” Severa tried to breathe. “Thanks.”

She dropped the phone to the desk with a clatter and buried her face in her arms. She sighed. Behind her, she could hear the shower running and the static glow of the TV. She had kept the volume down and now she could barely hear it at all. Everything seemed drowned out by the roar of blood in her ears.

She got up and crossed to one of the two queen beds and flopped herself down, heedless of the disheveled state of her towel. Her long scarlet hair tangled around her and she curled up in a tight ball, breathing slowly. She refused to let herself panic. She could be strong. She _needed_ to be strong. Her mom didn’t need her to be a blubbering mess – she was already concerned with her daughter who was _actually_ in danger.

Severa felt the doubts worming into her mind. What right did she have to be so scared? To be crippled by this? Lucina was the one in harm’s way, not her. Wasn’t it selfish, to demand the attention of their parents, to demand the care and comfort they should be affording their probably-dying daughter?

She hugged herself tighter. The shower turned off and she could hear the faucet dripping. Her mother would be out soon. She needed to be strong. Stronger than this.

She pushed herself upright and crossed the room to her hastily-packed backpack, drawing out a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt. She smirked at the band logo emblazoned across the front, dimly recalling Lucina mocking her for it.

“Bon Jovi? Really?” Cordelia said, walking into the room, running a hairbrush through her hair. “I didn’t know you liked him.”

Severa scowled. “So?”

“Your father really liked him,” her mother said, smoothing out her already-donned pajamas. “Come here.” She sat cross-legged on her bed and patted the comforter in front of her.

“Why?” Severa asked suspiciously.

“Your hair is a mess. Let me brush it out.”

Severa sighed. “Mom, I don’t-“ she faltered. “I…I can do-“ she felt her mind slip. “I can-“ she zoned out, staring at the black-and-white cartoons crackling across the TV screen.

A gentle hand on her shoulders startled her from her stupor. “It’s been a long day. Come on.”

Severa nodded and allowed her mother to guide her to the bed. She sat cross-legged in front of Cordelia, watching television, secretly reveling in the feeling of the hairbrush working out tangles of her long, red hair. Her mother’s hands were always gentle, even as they undid knots and jumbles of hair. She combed the brush through first, working her way down Severa’s hair from root to tip before finally running her fingers through.

Severa hadn’t put her hair up, so it took quite some time. She let herself space out, the weariness and fear finally succumbing at last to comfort. She was warm and safe, her mother was here, and nothing could hurt her.

She stared at the television, watching scanlines track across the screen, only half-paying attention to the characters on-screen. Her mother hummed as she worked.

“Mom?” she said at last, almost inaudibly.

“Hm?”

“I…” she didn’t break her fixed glare at the television. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Cordelia frowned, setting the hairbrush on the nightstand. She began separating out pleats of Severa’s hair. “For what?”

“For…” Severa looked at her bare feet. “For being such an awful daughter.”

“Shh,” Cordelia hushed her. “Don’t say that. You’re the best daughter a mother could ask for.”

“No I’m not,” Severa said softly. She tilted her head back slightly, allowing her mother to work. “I’m just awful. I always fight with you and swear at you, and I never listen to what you say. I always make you and dad fight, too. I’m just the worst.”

“Don’t say that,” Cordelia repeated, scooting closer. “Why would you think that?”

“I…I don’t know,” Severa admitted, blinking. She refused to turn. She wouldn’t turn. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. “I know you and dad argue about me.”

“About what?” Cordelia began braiding her hair.

“I know dad wants me to see a therapist.”

“Shh,” Cordelia hushed her again. “No, he doesn’t.”

“No, he does,” Severa protested. “I heard you talking about it after you grounded me.” She swallowed. “And…I just wonder if you would be happier if I were someone else.”

“Oh, Severa,” Cordelia breathed, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her back into an embrace. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Severa blinked back tears. “You always say how proud you are of Lucina, and how she’s just so smart and successful and I’m always just _me_ , and that means I’m just stupid and mean and-“ her tirade was cut off by tight arms around her torso, almost constricting her.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Severa blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. She cursed herself. She sniffled, and her thoughts spiraled. _I’m just mean and stupid and a bitch and you hate me and now Lucina’s going to die and that means you’ll just be stuck with just ME, the strong contender for the worlds-worst-most-awful-child award, and god why couldn’t it have been me instead of Lucina, why did she have to get hurt, no one would even care if I had an aneu-whatever and fucking died, but now Lucina’s going to die and I’m going to be all alone except for Noire but Noire’s going to die too because I’m too stupid and cowardly to do anything to stop the people I love from getting hurt and_

But she said nothing and instead leaned back, resting in her mother’s embrace. She closed her eyes, wishing her brain would just stop for once her in her damn life.

Lips pressed against the top of her head. “Don’t say that,” Cordelia said quietly. “Don’t say those things about yourself. You may not be perfect, but no one is. What matters is that you’re _Severa_ , and I would never want you to be anyone but.”

Severa bit back a sob and nodded. Cordelia kissed her head again.

“I love you so much, Severa. You’re my daughter, and I love you with my whole heart. There’s nothing you could ever to do change that.”

Severa finally shifted, nestling against her mother and closing her eyes. She listened to her mother’s cooing, gentle voice.

“Shh…” Cordelia whispered. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. Just rest.” She ran her hands through Severa’s hair softly, stroking the silky pleats of red.

Severa squeezed her tightly and let herself drift. Even despite it all – the weeks of lost sleep, the nightmares, the monsters. Her own battered and bruised body, her aching muscles and her tense frame. Lucina, sleeping in a hospital bed not two blocks away, Noire nestled in her own bed on the far side of town. None of it mattered right now. What mattered was the gentle, familiar voice. The soft hands, soothing motions through her hair and along her back. The warmth of the hotel bed and its bunched-up comforter, the soft hum of the television and the radiator, the patter of leaves swirling outside, brushing against the window like a thousand quiet fingers tapping the glass. Severa let herself be taken away and she slowly drifted off to sleep, safe at last in her mother’s arms.

 

-

 

Lucina opened one eye. She tried opening the other one. If it took, she couldn’t tell, since half her vision remained dark. She blinked, for brief instants plunged into black, then light, then black, then light. Her blurry vision focused. “D-dad?” she asked.

“They said you were awake,” came her father’s voice. It sounded muted, distant. Like the far-off rumble of thunder. 

“Am I?”

Chrom laughed, and his hearty chuckle filled Lucina with warmth. She tried to piece together what she could remember.

“Is Severa okay?” she asked, trying to muddle through her brain-fog.

“Yes, Severa is fine. She’s at a hotel with mom.”

Lucina nodded. Rather, she tried to nod, but in practice it was more of a loll. “H-hotel? Why?”

Chrom sat on the side of the bed and reached for her hand, cautiously. “Lucina, do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?”

Lucina shook her head. “Where am I?”

“Prism Memorial Hospital. Do you remember what happened last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

Lucina took stock of her body. She checked her torso, then her arms, then was shocked to find that the rest of her body was gone. No, not gone. Under a sheet. That’s where it was. Okay. She tried shifting, moving her legs. They seemed to work. Or, at least, whatever she was doing was shifting the sheet. “I don’t think so.”

“How does your head feel?”

Lucina lifted it. “Fuzzy.”

“No pain, though?”

She shook her head languidly. Then she thumped it backwards against her pillow limply. “Why can’t I see?”

“Your eye,” Chrom explained. “Do you remember?”

Lucina frowned. She remembered bits and pieces, but everything after collapsing in the bathroom felt like a haze, a vague dream. She recalled streetlights passing by…a car window, maybe? Lots of bright white light, concerned voices. She remembered being in pain, but now there was nothing but a fluffy cloud of coziness wrapped around her head. Like cottonballs jammed into her ears and mouth. She smacked her lips.

“I…I think so.”

Chrom nodded. “The doctors are going to come in and do some tests on your eye, okay?”

Lucina looked at him, confused. “M-my eye?”

“Yes, your eye. Remember? Last night?”

Lucina looked around the room, her halved vision slowly bringing bits of information to her brain. It was dark – no light on at all. A window, blinds shut. Through the lattice, an orange glow seeped through. Daylight? Streetlights? She couldn’t be sure. The room was small, the walls painted a calming shade of pale blue. A framed picture of flowers was mounted on the far wall. To her left, sitting on her bed, was her father. To her right, a rack of medical supplies. An IV drip, maybe. She followed the narrow tube to her forearm and nodded. “Last night,” she repeated.

Chrom patted her. “They sedated you, it’ll take a while for the painkillers to wear off. In the meantime, just rest, okay? I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Lucina leaned back and closed her eye.

 

-

 

The next time Lucina opened her eyes, both opened. The hospital room was filled with bright light – the blinds were cast open, and a bright blue sky bled through the glass and cast a light glow across her bed. She blinked, confused. She reached up to touch her head, and as she did she saw the IV tube still embedded in her arm. She nodded. Okay. Hospital. IV.

She remembered bits and pieces now that the painkillers had worn off – the frantic drive to the hospital, the ER, her head being wrapped in bandages. The cold stab of a needle, then a soft, comforting darkness. And then nothing, blackness. Until now.

She winced and rubbed her head. She certainly didn’t _feel_ in pain. Stiff, sure, but that was probably still residual from the strenuous weekend. She blinked. Then winked. Left camera. Right camera. Left camera. Right camera. Both eyes, ready and at attention.

She touched her brow. Nothing out of the ordinary. She touched her left cheek – a bit tender, but again, nothing. No blood, no pain. She frowned and scanned the bedside table, looking for some way to call a nurse. She had seen the television shows – she knew how it worked.

The bedside table was bare, save a single book. She smiled. Severa must have grabbed it from the house before they left. She picked it up and began to page through it idly, looking for her bookmark. She looked at the clock – six. AM, probably. Too early for visitors, and she could at least hope her family was getting some sleep. She leaned back and picked up where she had left off, yet again engrossed in the book Inigo had recommended to her.

As she turned the pages, she felt her thoughts bouncing around, unable to focus on the words in front of her eyes. Names, places, events swirled in a tornado in her brain. Inigo cropped up in her thoughts – his kind smile, his gentle hands. His excitable nature, his secret shyness. Severa, of course, occupied a great deal of her thoughts – she made a mental note to thank Severa later. Her quick thinking had likely saved them both from some sort of horrible death. Not just once, but twice now.

Tiki, too, showed up in her mind as she lazily dozed, alternating between reading and resting. The mysterious librarian – studious and knowledgeable, for all her scatter-brained craziness. And her stoic, seemingly undauntable wife. She wondered what they were doing now – if their investigation had yet yielded any results, or if they were still grasping for straws, flailing wildly in the darkness of uncertainty and unknowns.

She thought of her friends at school and wondered what they would be doing – hopefully Severa would inform them of Lucina’s plight and thus dispel any fears of her disappearing into the night.

A nurse visited, taking her temperature, examining her eyes, and leaving a tray of food before departing.

Lucina sighed and turned her attention out the window. It was a clear, cloudless morning, a soft haze of fog shrouding the ground beyond the hospital parking garage, obscuring the trees and homes of the neighboring section of town. Somewhere out there, in that haze of fog, amidst the homes and the trees and the winding streets – somewhere lurked a murderer.

Her blood ran cold as her thoughts turned dark. A murderer. So many close calls, this last one closest of all. Had it not been for their father’s timely arrival…who knows what would have happened? What dark designs the hooded man planned. If he truly was using blood as a means of summoning some dark god, what would he have done with the two of them? Tiki had mentioned that she had “exalted blood”, whatever that meant. Did the murderer think so, too? Was that why he seemed to doggedly pursue them? Was Severa, too, in danger?

Every horror cliché played out in her head – the murderer, disguised as a doctor, slipping a toxin into her IV. A nurse poisoning her food. A thief in the night, cracking open the window and slipping in like a shadow.

She shook her head. Hospitals were safe! There were security procedures. This murderer was certainly a madman, but to infiltrate every level of Ylissean society would have been nigh-impossible.

As if to complement her relieved thoughts, the door opened yet again. It wasn’t a nurse that came through this time, but a slender girl with a head of bright red hair.

“Sev!” Lucina cried, excitedly.

“Lucina!” Severa dashed across the room and threw her arms around her sister, relieved.

“Be careful, Severa,” Cordelia said, following close behind. “She’s still recovering.”

“I’m fine, mom. Really,” Lucina waved it off. “Okay, but for real, you’re gonna crush my ribs, Sevvy.” She pushed her sister back.

“Sorry, I was just so worried!” Severa said, not even bothering to put up a front of apathy. “They…they said you could have died.”

Lucina was taken aback. “Died?”

“The doctors suspected your seizure and bleeding was caused by an aneurysm,” Chrom said, shuffling into the room last and shutting the door behind him. “They said it’s a miracle you don’t seem to have suffered any damage at all.”

“I told you, I feel fine.” Lucina stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “A little sore, but…” She paused. “Hold on, it’s like, noon. Severa, why aren’t you in school?”

“Considering all the goings-on,” Cordelia said, sitting on the bed. “We decided it would be best if the two of you stayed…off the grid, as it were.”

“Off the grid?” Lucina repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you the last time you said someone had gotten into our house,” Chrom said gravely. “I should have known better than to doubt the two of you. But one thing is now for certain – this mysterious man has taken a vested interest in the two of you, and he knows where we live. So, for the time being, we’ve decided that we’ll be staying in the hotel room your mom rented. I’ll be stopping by the house later today to pick up some things, so be sure to tell me if there’s anything you want me to get.”

“What?” Lucina gawked. “What are you talking about? Staying in a hotel?!”

“It’s not that bad,” Severa shrugged. “Our room’s got heating and is only like, three doors down from the snack machines.”

Lucina settled back into the bed and let the news sink in. “No school?” she asked. “What about our classes?”

“I spoke to the principal and he agreed. Lissa will get your work from your teachers and pass it on to me, so you can still keep up with your studies.”

“And everything else? All of our friends? Homecoming?! Are we still allowed to-“

Cordelia set a hand on Lucina’s hand and hushed her. “Come, now. We can figure out all the details later. For now, all you need to do is tell us if there’s anything you want from the house. It is an active crime scene, after all.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Severa interjected, turning to their father. “Can you pick up my makeup stuff from the bathroom cabinet? I forgot to grab it last night since we were in a hurry.”

“I don’t think there’s enough space in the entire hotel room for all that,” Chrom muttered.

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?!” Severa snapped, making Lucina laugh. Perhaps some things truly never did change.

There was a knock at the door, hushing the conversation and laughter. Chrom opened the door just enough to speak to a face on the other side. His expression went from calm to dark to stunned. He nodded grimly. “Yes,” he said simply. “I understand. I’ll tell them.” He shut the door again.

“The police are here,” he announced to the room. “They’d like to ask the two of you some questions about last night.”

Lucina and Severa both nodded.

“What’s wrong?” Cordelia asked, reading Chrom’s tense face.

Chrom took a deep breath, steeling himself. Lucina and Severa looked nervously at each other, then their mother, then their father.

“Two more disappearances have been reported,” Chrom said at last, breaking the stillness.

“Two?” Lucina sat up. “What happened? Who are they?”

Chrom frowned, as if trying to work out in his head the best way to break the news. “It…it was two of your friends – Morgan and Marc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	25. October 11th , 12:25 PM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I'm sorry it's been eighteen years but we're back on schedule. and by schedule I mean I can like, write words again. Maybe. Hope it's good!

“Their father reported their disappearance not half an hour ago,” the uniformed officer relayed dutifully. “He came into the police station looking distraught and crazy, shouting about his missing kids.”

“Did he say anything?” Lucina asked.

The officer frowned. “I wasn’t there, but the other officers said he was shouting up a storm about something, like he was panicking. Understandably. Their house is just a block or so down from yours, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Severa confirmed, sitting on the bed at Lucina’s side. “They live on the corner.”

“Do you think that he may have gone to their house after being scared off by your father?”

Lucina and Severa looked at each other pensively. It was a possibility, and Lucina felt her heart sink. Was it their fault, if Morgan and Marc were hurt? Were they only taken because Chrom was there to protect his daughters? “I…I don’t know. I guess,” Lucina said at last.

“Can you tell me a little bit about what you remember from last night?”

Lucina shook her head. “I don’t remember a whole lot, since I started getting headaches when the lights started flashing.”

“The doctors think it might have been an epileptic seizure,” Chrom volunteered. “Brought on by the power flickering.”

“Do you remember when this happened?”

“A little after nine, I think,” Severa said. “I usually try to call Noire around then, but her mom wouldn’t let me talk to her.”

“And this ‘Noire’,” the officer took down notes. “She’s a friend of yours?”

“Yea-“

“She’s Severa’s girlfriend,” Lucina explained, interrupting her sister.

The officer hummed and nodded. “Do you have any reason to suspect the culprit might also go after her?”

“Of course I do,” Severa snapped testily. “He’s going after __everyone__ , isn’t he?”

“Please try and remain calm,” the officer held up a hand. “We’re doing out best to-“

“To what?!” Severa scowled. “You assholes haven’t done jack shit since the first kidnapping! You didn’t save Gerome, you didn’t save Brady, you aren’t gonna save Morgan and Marc, either! What good are you?!”

“Missy, please-“

“Missy?” Severa spat, getting to her feet. “Listen, you fuckin’ clowns have been running around like chickens with your heads cut off, accomplishing __nothing__ , and now you expect me to believe you’re finally gonna get your shit together?”

“Severa, please,” Cordelia said softly, putting an arm around her daughter.

“I’m not gonna calm down until someone gives me a fucking reason to trust a single one of you fuckers!” Severa screamed, panic and anger finally reaching a head. “How do I not know __you’re__  the killer, huh? Or the chief? Or any one of you goose-stepping morons?”

“Severa,” Chrom chimed in, trying to shush her.

“Come on, honey,” Cordelia began shuffling Severa out of the room. “Let’s go get you something to eat, okay?”

As the door shut, Chrom smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that. She can be a little testy when she has low blood sugar.”

The officer shook his head. “I understand that it’s a very tense situation, but I really would appreciate your cooperation in these matters.”

“Of course,” Chrom said. He turned to Lucina. “Are you okay to answer some more questions?”

 Lucina nodded and settled back into her bed, ready for the third degree.

 

-

 

To say Lucina was having a rough day might have been an understatement. After a lengthy and thorough interrogation about the night before and their previous encounters with the hooded figure, she had to endure a battery of tests from the doctors and nurses, including more MRIs and CAT Scans, which Lucina quickly learned weren’t as fun as they sounded. She had to take vision tests, concussion tests, got blood drawn, and in the end the doctors still couldn’t determine the source of the problem. The running theories were aneurysm and seizure, though they remained baffled by the total lack of permanent damage. Lucina wasn’t complaining, though, and in between bouts of medical examinations she took time to read the book Inigo lent her and catch up on lost sleep.

Two blocks away, Severa sat at the hotel desk, seething. She wasn’t just frustrated – she was pissed. It had come back to bite them, like she knew it would, and now the conflict had been brought home. The hooded man had attacked them – he had kicked them out of their house, he had hurt Lucina, and he had kidnapped her friends. She pounded her fists against the desk in frustration, the smarting pain sending tears to her eyes. She had to do something. Something.

And, half the town away, Chrom sat at his desk in city hall, poring over paperwork and trying to rush through his work to be able to return to his daughter’s side. He leaned back in his cushy chair and peered around the office, gazing out the window at main street below.

The street was empty – no one was out, not even patrolling officers. It was a gorgeous fall day, the sky bright and clear, the mountains afire with the glow of leaves and dappled light. And in Ylisse, all was still.

The school had let out early, and for the time being was closed. There could no longer be any pretensions – these were not isolated incidents, these were targeted attacks. An advisory had been issued, warning parents to keep their children indoors and supervised until the crisis passed.

And Chrom scowled, anger bubbling inside him. This monster was __winning__ , god damnit. They had tried to keep the community safe, tried to maintain regular operations and pretend that nothing was happening. But fear won out, and this madman had brought the town to bow. All the might of city hall crumpled before an empty car, a shattered window, and a bloodstained sidewalk.

A knock at the door bumped Chrom from his thoughts.

“Yes?” he looked up, quickly shuffling his papers to make it appear as though he was working and not spacing out. In all fairness, he thought, he had a lot on his plate. He could hardly be expected to keep regular office hours.

The bright face of the city intern, Donnel, poked through the cracked door.

“Oh, hello, Donny,” Chrom said, surprised.

“Someone’s ‘ere to see you, sir,” he said nervously.

Chrom frowned. He rarely got visitors, and with the town shut down, he wondered who could be disturbing him. “Who?”

Donnel shrugged. “Some lady. She says she’s from the county library?”

“The county…?” Chrom scowled. __Her__. “She short, green hair? Bit of an accent?”

Donnel nodded. “Should I send her in?”

Chrom leaned back heavily into his chair and let out a discouraged sigh. That last thing he needed was some eccentric pencil-pusher filling his head with nonsense about dragons and evil cults. But it’s not like he was actually getting his work done. Maybe she would have useful information, for once. If nothing else, he had something of his own he wanted to discuss with her.

“Sir?” Donnel asked again.

“Send her in.”

Tiki dropped a heavy manila folder crammed with papers on Chrom’s desk with a thump, sending the councilman’s own papers scattering. She sat in a chair across from him, triumphant.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. If she was happy, she no doubt had some theory. “Yes, Tiki?”

“I’ve figured it out,” she said, sitting forward and opening her folder. “I figured out what’s going on.”

Chrom looked at the clock and growled. Too late for him to use lunch as an excuse, and too soon for him to take an early evening. “Oh?” His voice was weary.

“Yes.” Tiki withdrew a sheet of paper and passed it to Chrom. “The killer is using the tunnels beneath the city to get around. I’ve charted out all of the disappearances and incidents, and each one correlates at least roughly with a place where the old sewer system connects with either drains or substations.”

Chrom peered at the document. It was a blueprint of the city sewers, with periodic points marked with bright red X’s. She had done her homework, at least. And it didn’t even require kidnapping his daughters.

“We did our best to search the tunnels for evidence of the killer’s use, but-“

“Hold on, you what?” Chrom frowned. “That’s trespassing.”

Tiki sighed and steepled her fingers, leaning on the desk. “Chrom, I am going to speak frankly. You and I both know that we’re well beyond petty misdemeanors at this point.”

“ _ _You__  are,” Chrom sighed. “Somehow, I have yet to commit any myself.”

“I realize that it may be difficult for you to trust me, given the circumstances of our first meeting,” Tiki withdrew. “But I want to assure you that I have nothing but good intentions. I love this town dearly, and to see it brought low by the whims of a madman is…heartbreaking. This is a good town filled with good people, people who do not deserve to be terrorized.”

“What would you have me do, then?” Chrom asked. “I’ve already got the entire police force working around the clock. We have volunteers working, we’re getting together a search party to comb through the neighboring woods and the reservoir. And now you’re asking me to send more people on a wild goose chase, because of this hunch? How thin do you think we can spread ourselves?”

Tiki nodded. “I understand. But you’re making a mistake. You won’t find the missing children by searching above ground. The killer is using the tunnels to transport them. I guarantee it.”

“Oh? What evidence have you found? You said yourself you found none.”

Tiki slapped another paper down – a news clipping. “An article from the 1800s, about the sewer system’s construction. The workers used the caves beneath the city as the framework for the sewer network. As they were building, many workers reported strange things happening – things moving, things vanishing, footprints, distant voices. Many of the men became superstitious, so they chose to wall of sections of the cave that lead deeper into the mountains.”

“Then that’s your evidence,” Chrom said. “The tunnels don’t connect at all.”

“Oh, but they do,” Tiki brought out a third newspaper article, and Chrom rolled his eyes before picking it up. “Here,” she said. “An article from 1921. During a spate of terrible storms, flooding broke down sections of the tunnels, requiring renovation. Right __here__ ,” she said with emphasis, pointing to a section of the sewer map. “Right where it would theoretically connect to the mountain caves. The article makes no mention of rebuilding the barrier.”

“Why don’t you investigate yourself, then?” Chrom handed the paper back to her.

 “It’s too near to the water treatment center,” Tiki explained. “It was a simple matter to break into the smaller substations, but-“

Chrom held a hand up. “Please, don’t…just don’t tell me about the details.”

“It’s too difficult to get into the water treatment center on my own. I’m asking that you send a search party out to start sweeping the tunnels.”

“What would you like me to tell them, hmm? That I’m sending them out on the hunch of an academic? That rather than search the woods, the most likely place, I instead waste resources – and time, mind you – to trudge around the sewers?”

“Yes,” Tiki said plainly. “Barring that, let me search them myself.”

“I will not,” Chrom said, shutting her folder and sliding it back across the desk. “I’ve been doing some digging of my own, ‘Miss Tiki’,” Chrom used air quotes for emphasis. “You aren’t who you claim to be, and if you speak to my daughters again, I’m going to have you arrested.”

“What?” Tiki sat up, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you, I’ve been doing some digging. After learning how you’ve been drawing my children into this fiasco, I wanted to be sure. You were so knowledgeable, so of course I suspected. What I found might be of interest to you.”

Tiki slid her chair back. “I…I need to go.”

“No,” Chrom shook his head. “Please, sit. I listened to your spiel, and now you can listen to mine. Sit.”

Tiki held her bag tightly against herself, poised to leap up if need be.

“Fortunately, the library is managed by the city, meaning I had access to library records. I must say, your application was very impressive. A doctorate in library sciences from Harvard. Graduated Summa Cum Laude, class of 1968.”

Tiki nodded.

“Except no one under your name attended Harvard that year. Not in 1968, nor in any year in the past few decades. In fact, only one Tiki ever attended Harvard, and she graduated in 1805. So tell me what I should think. A woman who has faked her identity, who lives in the center of town, who is intimately familiar with both the geography of the town and its people, who always just so __happens__  to have mysterious insight into the murderer. What am I to make of that?”

“What are you accusing me of?”

“Of identity theft, at the very least. Forging your credentials. I have half a mind to press charges for kidnapping my children.”

Tiki’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “How __dare__  you?”

“How dare I?” Chrom stood up, pounding on his desk. “How dare __you?__ Traipsing in here, claiming to know the truth as if your whole life wasn’t a fabrication!” He sat back down, heavily. “I did more digging, to see if I could uncover who you really were, and I could find nothing. Not here, not in the neighboring counties. My wife dug up the birth records for the local hospitals, and there is nothing. Your name is fake, at the very least. So who are you? Who are you, really?”

Tiki frowned, her growl simmering to an impatient grumble.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t call the police in here right now.”

With a huff, Tiki snatched up her folder, stuffed it into her bag, and hurried out the door. Chrom sifted through his desk and withdrew a bottle of aspirin.

 

-

 

“Luci!”

Lucina looked up, surprised at the figure barreling towards her. “Inig-Oof!” She gasped, surprised as he threw his arms around her.

“Oh my god, Lucina, are you alright?” he leaned back, breaking his embrace.

“Y-yeah!” Lucina replied. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“Severa called and told me what happened. My mom brought me over to visit. Oh, and here! For you,” he said, digging into his jacket and withdrawing a plastic take-out container. “Severa said you were complaining about the hospital food, so I picked you up a little something. I hope it didn’t get squished.”

Lucina popped the lid and grinned. “Thanks, Inigo.” She set the crepe container at her bedside and sat up, stretching her arms.

“You hear about Marc and Morgan?” Inigo asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Yeah,” Lucina said softly. “They’ll…they’ll be okay. They’re smart kids, no matter how they act.”

“Yeah,” Inigo responded half-heartedly. “It’s just…I don’t know. I feel like we’re always so far behind. Every time we start figuring things out, it just…turns to shit again.”

Lucina nodded thoughtfully and shifted to lean against him and rest her head on his shoulder. She sighed. “Yeah.”

“Like, this stuff we were talking about before. Even if we know __why__  this dude’s kidnapping people, that doesn’t give us any power to stop him, you know?”

Lucina slid her hand forward and threaded her fingers through his. She squeezed. “We’re going to be okay. We just…we just have to keep going. Morgan and Marc need us.”

Inigo nodded and squeezed her hand in return. “We’re trying to get everyone together again. School’s closed, for the time being, but most of our parents work, so we can still sneak out and meet up somewhere.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t that…” Lucina frowned. “Isn’t that just going to put us in more danger? The police said everyone needs to stay inside.”

“Well, no one has been kidnapped during the day. We all agreed it should still be fine during school hours, right?”

“I don’t know, Inigo. It makes me nervous.”

“Well, you won’t be coming, right? You’re gonna be stuck here?”

Lucina slumped against him in frustration. “I…I don’t know. They said they want to keep me here for observation, but I’ve been doing tests all day and they haven’t told me anything. I feel fine, though.”

“Yeah, well…” Inigo trailed off. For a moment, they sat in silence, hands entwined. Lucina stared out the window, looking through the glass to the town beyond. She could smell the septic odors of her hospital room, she could feel the IV pressing into the flesh of her arm. For just a moment, her head pulsed, and she winced and let out a hushed gasp.

“Hey, are you okay?” Inigo took her arm.

“Y-yeah,” Lucina blinked.

“So much for doing okay. I can leave and let you get some rest,” Inigo said, starting to stand.

“N-no!” Lucina grabbed his arm and tugged him back. “Can…can you stay?”

Inigo looked at her and gazed into her deep blue eyes. There was something there, something he couldn’t place. Pleading, maybe. Comfort, too. And fear. “Yeah, uh…yeah, I can stay.”

“Thanks.”

 

-

 

Severa pressed her hand into Noire’s, squeezing tightly, trying to transmit some sort of comfort, some aura of safety. The bandages around her palm seemed fresh, clean, and tight - a far cry from the ragged cloth she had done herself. Perhaps Tharja had been kind enough to do it. Or, more likely, a neighbor.

The sound of footsteps echoing made Severa look up. She glared at the darkened stage in front of her.

Inigo had taken front and center, of course, striding out across the hard wood of his mother’s theater and plopping to a seat at the edge of the stage. He had a notepad slung under his arm. “Are we waiting for anyone else?”

Severa sat up and peered around the grandstands. It was a beautiful, historic theater, though Severa hadn’t spent much time actually seeing performances. The walls were painted red and trimmed with beautiful gold filigree, and murals dotted the sides. It was dim, the only lights coming from the stage lights Inigo had switched on as they all huddled up at the front of the auditorium. There was a scattering of kids in the seats around her, mostly the same crew that had shown up before, though this time there were notable absences; No Lucina, for one. And two empty seats where Marc and Morgan should have been sitting, smacking each other and making stupid jokes. Severa ground her teeth.

“I think that’s everyone,” Nah spoke at last, standing up to project her small voice. Inigo nodded.

“Right. Well…I suppose you all heard about Morgan and Marc, right?”

Silent, somber nods were the only reply.

Kjelle was the first to break the silence. “What the __fuck__ ,” she snapped, her low voice echoing across the stage space. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

“Nothing’s changed,” Laurent offered, sternly. “Our goal is the same, we now just have an added element of time pressure.”

“Yeah. __Fuck,__ ” Kjelle swore again.

“Let’s just…let’s go over the facts again,” Inigo suggested.

“Again?!” Cynthia cried from the back. “All we’ve __done__  is go over facts! We haven’t gotten any closer to figuring out who this guy is, or, or, or…”

“Shut it, Cynthia!” Severa snapped.

“You shut it!” she retorted.

“This isn’t a time to panic, guys…” Yarne said meekly. Both Severa and Cynthia turned on him.

“Everyone, calm down!” Inigo shouted. “Please, just…stop…” his voice was lost over the babbling arguments. “Everyone, can you…God, just shut __UP!__ ” he cried at last, stomping his foot down on the stage and making an echo reverberate throughout the theater. “Can you all just shut the fuck up for five seconds?”

His outburst was successful, though he realized too late that he didn’t have words to follow up. He floundered, looking for any thread of investigation to latch onto. “Okay…thank you. Now, who was the last person to see Marc or Morgan?”

“Marc and I got coffee after school,” Nah offered. “I…” she tilted her head in embarrassment. “I…was going to ask him to homecoming.”

Inigo looked taken aback. “Oh.” He paused. “Did you?”

“Come on, Inigo,” Severa snapped. “Focus.”

“Right. And then he just went home?”

Nah nodded.

“I saw Morgan after school,” Severa finally suggested. But just for a bit. Dad was driving us home and we passed her biking in the neighborhood.”

“Did it look like she was going somewhere?”

Severa shook her head. “She wasn’t wearing a helmet, and her dad doesn’t like her leaving our street if she isn’t. I think she was just biking around.”

Inigo nodded. “Okay…” He stared at Severa, who frowned back. “Now, you and Lucina…”

“Yes, yes, yes. We got attacked. Everyone fucking knows, Inigo.”

Inigo held up his hands defensively. “Woah, okay. Touchy subject.”

“Did you see him?” Owain leapt to his feet. “The murderer?!”

“No, idiot. It was dark, and I was focused on __not dying__. Jeez.”

Owain frowned.

“Did you see anyone around the neighborhood?” asked Nah, turning to Severa. “Anyone out of the ordinary?”

Severa shook her head. “No, just…” she frowned. “Morgan’s dad was out mowing the lawn, and…” She stopped.

“And…?” Kjelle prompted her.

“And…I don’t fucking know! No, okay? Nothing out of the ordinary. There never fucking __is!__  The power flickered, and we got attacked, and I don’t fucking know!” Severa shouted, her voice breaking. “I don’t know, okay?!” She realized she was screaming, her voice hoarse, her chest heaving, her fingers digging into Noire’s hand. She blinked, trying to stop tears from flooding her eyes as the other children stared at her.

“I…” she gritted her teeth. “I…fuck this.” she shook her head and got to her feet, storming out of the theater.

 

-

 

Lucina was discharged from the hospital a day later. When she came to the motel her family was staying at, the first sight that greeted her was Severa, leaning against the railing on the motel porch, smoking.

“I’m sure mom and dad aren’t going to like that,” she said, coming up the stairs to the landing. Severa stared out at the parking lot and blew smoke.

“So?”

“Are they inside?”

Severa shook her head. “Dad’s at work, mom’s back at the house talking to the police for something.”

“How’d the…the thing go? With everyone else.”

Severa took a long, slow drag, paused as if she was going to speak, then shook her head. “It doesn’t fucking matter.”

Lucina pursed her lips. “A ‘it’s nice to see you’ would have been nice.”

“Hi, welcome back. World’s still shit,” Severa tapped out her cigarette, watching the ashes fluttered in the autumn breeze.

“Okay, well…I’m going to go shower. I feel like I smell like rubbing alcohol.” Lucina opened the door and peered around the motel room. It was more or less what she expected. Two beds, a desk, a television. A smattering of suitcases, half-empty, and clothing folded and tucked away into drawers. Someone - her father, probably - had pinned a calendar above the desk, with hastily scribbled notes along the weeks and days. Lucina sighed.

“You okay, Sev?” she asked, lightly tapping her sister’s shoulder.

Severa nodded. “Go shower,” she waved her hand vaguely.

“Are you…okay out here?”

Severa nodded, scanning the edge of the parking lot and the street beyond.

__She must be so nervous__ , Lucina thought, undressing in the bathroom. __She’s been through so much. Well, we both have.__  She watched the hot water steam up the tiled floor. They had been through a lot, and there seemed to be no end in sight. At some point, the federal government would probably get involved, or __something__. Something had to give.

She felt the stress melt off her, reveling in the high pressure the motel shower managed to provide, the heat and water pounding against her bare back as she closed her eyes and tried to ignore her whirling anxieties. Maybe someone would have news. Tiki or Say’ri had pieced something together, maybe, or…or…anything. She ran her fingers through her hair. It all just felt so…distant. Like a storm on the horizon, a danger she knew and could see, but couldn’t quite feel. So instead she focused on this - the warm water, the cleansing motions, the scent of the lavender bath soap she kept stealing from Severa because it smelled good…she could have stayed in there for hours. Maybe it __was__  hours, by the time she finally got out. She rubbed her eye and shut the water off.

 

“What the fuck is that?” she snapped as she emerged into the motel room.

Severa didn’t look up from her hands.

“Severa, I said __what__  is __that?__ ” she stalked forwards. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

Cradled in Severa’s hands was the sleek silver of a revolver.

She stared at it with a sort of numb detachment. It looked heavy in her hands, too big for her sixteen-year-old fingers. Beside her on the bed was a small cardboard box whose label and images declared it to be full of .357 caliber bullets. She unlatched the cylinder and spun it.

“Severa, where the __fuck__ did you get that?” Lucina grabbed her shoulder, fear in her voice. She was panicking, and she knew she was, but… _ _fuck!__ What else was she supposed to do when she found her little sister cradling a fucking __gun__?! “Give that to me!”

Severa snapped the cylinder shut and recoiled, her features dark and her eyes angry. “No.”

Lucina faltered. There she was, naked, wrapped in a towel, trying to grab a gun from her sister’s hands. “Severa, I’m not going to ask you again. Give that to me.”

“No!” Severa cried, shifting away from her. “No. I’m fucking __sick__ of this shit. I’m sick of being scared, and I’m sick of feeling powerless.” She unlatched the cylinder for a second time and opened the box of ammunition. Before Lucina could stop her she was feeding bullets into it. “I’m fucking __sick__  of feeling like I can’t walk down the goddamn street, or have a fucking smoke without feeling like someone’s breathing down my neck.” She worked diligently, quickly. Lucina had no clue how guns worked, but evidently Severa had done her homework.

“So, what?” Lucina cried, exasperated. “What are you going to do with that?”

“I’m going to kill that mother fucker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, planning this update: Okay. Consider; Severa, but with a gun.
> 
>  
> 
> Also I feel like it's been forever since I've written this so please tell me if this felt like, disjointed or anything. Still gettin' that groove back.


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